


Small Sacrifices

by Jaye_Voy



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaye_Voy/pseuds/Jaye_Voy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of the plot to blackmail Kashyk, the real reason the Devore Inspector didn't arrest Voyager's telepaths at the end of "Counterpoint."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2002. I made some tweaks here and there, but the majority of the story's contents (and its flaws) remain intact.
> 
> I'll admit I don't recall the episode too clearly, but I wondered how Voyager was able to leave Devore space without being stopped for hiding their *own* telepaths. I think Kashyk met Tuvok, and probably the others, while he was seeking asylum on the ship. If nothing else Tuvok was in plain view when the last, failed search of Voyager was made. Even if Kashyk lost the shuttles full of refugees, wouldn't he have tried to save face by bringing in Voyager? Why was Voyager just able to go merrily on its way? That's the genesis of this story.
> 
> Star Trek, Voyager and all related characters and concepts are the property of Paramount. No infringement is intended or profit made. This has m/m sex and implied (but not portrayed) violence.

SUPPLEMENTAL PRIVATE LOG, EMH OF THE FEDERATION STARSHIP VOYAGER

/This written, rather than recorded, log is a new experience for me. Sadly, in the last few days it seems I have done many things for the first time./

/I would have forced memory suppression on an unwilling subject. I did use my scientific and medical skills to find ammunition for blackmail. If I hadn't found it, I would have falsified records to manufacture it. I deliberately withheld vital information from my Captain./

/More damningly, I aided and abetted a plan that resulted in the injury and abuse of someone under my care. And when circumstances dictated, I failed to protest when that person returned to the situation that caused them to need medical treatment in the first place./

/Finally, I have agreed to keep the record of these events and their consequences limited to the written account contained on this padd. The ship's logs will never reflect the full truth of the Devore incident. The involved Voyager Crewmember (hereafter referred to as VC) will have an incomplete personal medical history, as it will not list the wounds sustained in service to this ship and its crew. I truly regret no one else is likely to ever learn of his actions, or the true price we paid to be free of Devore space./

***********

/Not long after Kashyk came aboard to stay, Captain Janeway outlined her plan. Despite their mutual attraction, the Captain did not believe the Inspector was sincere in his quest for asylum. Therefore, she would provide a distraction while the refugee telepaths took two of our shuttles through the hidden wormhole./

/It was a risky plan, but a necessary one. Unfortunately, the Captain had merely issued orders without first seeking her officers' input. Perhaps one of them would have foreseen the flaw in her scheme, and saved me from writing this log entirely. We will never know./

/VC originally approached me to ask about memory suppression for Kashyk. He was concerned that the Captain's plan only provided for the refugees' escape. Voyager would still be stuck in Devore space, vulnerable to being detained and searched once more. Kashyk had already met the Vulcans, and doubtless figured out why they were absent from earlier inspections. So even if the Captain's plot succeeded, at best Voyager would lose its telepaths; at worst the crew faced imprisonment or even death./

/VC hoped to make Kashyk forget he had ever met our telepaths. A mind-meld would have done the job, but would leave telltale signs. We secretly hacked into the information gathered during our time in Devore space. Unfortunately, it revealed that any metabolic agents I had access to would be toxic to Devore physiology. We were stymied, as an operation would have been as obvious as a mind-meld./

/I tinkered with formulas to try to synthesize a memory suppressor that wouldn't kill Kashyk, while VC researched Devore culture and read the inspector's personal records. Suddenly I heard,/ "Perhaps..."

/I felt the first spark of hope as I moved to read over VC's shoulder./ "Do you have something?"

"Maybe. Look at Kashyk's record. No one has been more devoted in eradicating telepaths---he's practically a fanatic."

"So?"

"So, he's a little *too* perfect. If I remember my history correctly, such obvious devotion to a cause often means a person has something to hide."

VC thought a moment. "Doctor, would you be able to enhance our genetic screens to check if Kashyk is something like a borderline telepath, maybe a touch empath?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I'm not sure. The black gloves, or the way he invades others' space. It could even be less than that, maybe he is simply some kind of carrier."

"The potential father of a telepath? How would I test for that?"

"I don't know, you're the doctor."

/I would have bristled at VC's attitude, but we were both tense with the knowledge that time was running out. Besides, we had a much larger problem./ "Even if I *can* come up with such tests, we don't have any of Kashyk's DNA." It suddenly struck me---"You might be on to something. He's so careful to recycle everything he touches, it's as though he doesn't want to leave a trail."

"Yes, but we need that sample." VC read Kashyk's record once more, then rose with a grim expression. "Just get those tests ready."

************

/VC did not return. With my usual brill---no, this is not a time for boasting. Based on comparisons of the refugees' DNA and the "pure" Devore samples on record, I had devised several screens that should reveal latent markers for telepathy or DNA altered to hide the same./

/I am ashamed to admit I was pacing Sickbay, muttering imprecations about VC making me hurry up and wait. I was shocked out of my ramblings as the computer announced a privacy lock, followed by a transport. VC appeared in the middle of the room, immediately falling to his knees. As I reached forward he held up a hand, shaking his head./

He levered himself up painfully, then reached for a small specimen basin. He spit blood and other fluid into it, then leaned shakily against the bed as he began unbuttoning his dark outfit. "You'll have to...collect...the other sample." His voice sounded strange, thick. I started to reach for a tricorder, but as VC's clothes fell I froze./

/I understood now what he meant. Blood had dripped down his thighs and it was easy to see where the flow had originated. In addition I could detect the shadows of bruises mottling the skin from neck to knees. There were also what looked to be deep scratches. I finally shook myself and grabbed a specimen kit. I didn't have time to waste arguing that the sample could wait./

/I noted the extent of the damage as I sealed the bloodied swabs in their casing. The tricorder confirmed it: several tears, a few quite deep in the channel. The same types of wounds had scored VC's mouth and throat. The deep bruising in the rectal area and around his neck were consistent with violent rape, while lacerations and blunt trauma marks indicated a beating at experienced hands./

/We were silent as I repaired the injuries; it took quite some time. I finished with a general antibiotic, pain reliever and vitamin shot. VC cleaned up and redressed. I realized then how well the dark fabric hid the blood. I indicated the cloth and quietly asked,/ "How did you know?"

"The records." /VC's tones still sounded huskier than usual; considering the damage, I wasn't surprised./ "The signs were there. His subordinates have a high turnover rate, and his wife headed back to the home planet as soon as she was pregnant. Kashyk enjoys his power too much." VC indicated my samples. "Will those be sufficient?"

"They'd better," /I could hear the anger in my own voice./ "The bastard certainly charged enough for them."

"I didn't know he was barbed." VC straightened. "You do understand that this stays between us, Doctor. I think Kashyk does have some ability. When he...I could feel him trying to push into my mind. The Captain can't know; if he gets a hint of the situation before her plan is in motion none of us will survive."

"If you insist. I have come up with some tests that may give us the information we need. I also looked into Devore procedures for condemning telepaths; if we're going to threaten Kashyk we'll have to match those standards."

"Good thinking." /As VC walked to the door I was amazed how well he hid the considerable pain he must still be in. His shift started in a few hours; I wondered how he would make it through the day./

********

/I regret to say that all of our efforts still fell short. The tests *did* show latent empathic ability and attempts to mask it, but the large amount of VC's alien blood mixed with the samples was enough to discredit it by Devore standards. VC arrived after shift and inquired after my results./

/He was quiet for a long moment, giving no hint of his thoughts./ "We have proof, but we need untainted samples to back it up?"

"Yes, but---"

"Thank you, Doctor. I would appreciate if you remained on duty." /Then he departed once more./

*********

/While yesterday I paced in irritation, tonight dread kept me moving as I tried to flee the tauntings of my conscience. My fundamental nature had been programmed with the oath to do no harm, yet I had done nothing to stop VC. Despite knowing what he was likely to suffer at Kashyk's hands./

/It would have been futile to argue (the logical course of action was clear to both of us), but the fact that I didn't even bother to raise a protest disturbed me deeply. And yet, in the end, what else could I do? Sacrifice the lives of the several to spare the pain of the one? Finally, the privacy lock sounded and VC shimmered into Sickbay./

/If I had been organic, I would have vomited. VC was curled up, fetal position, naked and bleeding. He'd been beaten more badly than before. And the stench.../

/I swiftly grabbed my swabs, knowing I wouldn't be allowed to begin the healing until we had our proof. I called for brighter lights and took extra care that the samples would be pure. There was saliva still glistening around several bites, semen on VC's face and throat, and urine staining his back. More than enough of all three to give us ample proof. I finished as quickly as possible, then began to catalog the injuries. The bruising and tears were more intensive, and the beating much, much worse. Both kidneys and the spleen were bruised, three ribs cracked, nose broken and both eyes swolllen. His wrists and ankles were rubbed raw. He'd also lost a fair amount of blood from the tearing and bites. The only bright spot was that there seemed to be no sign of infection./

/I noticed VC flinch ever so slightly from my touch as I worked, but I assumed that was a natural reaction to his experiences. It was only after he was clean and dressed in a new uniform that VC disclosed the full extent of the trauma./

"Doctor, you need to confirm the test results as soon as possible," /he said, voice still weak as he slowly sipped water./ "Kashyk is an empath...a powerful one. He got past my walls..." /He stopped for a moment, then the cool professional mask settled again./ "As soon as the shuttles are away you'll have to present Kashyk our terms: he lets Voyager go in peace with everyone aboard, or you'll reveal that the top Devore telepath-hunter is, in fact, a carefully disguised empath himself. If you word the threat carefully enough, he should still be in the dark about the Captain's original plan."

/I was stunned./ "You want *me* to approach him?"

"Yes. You'll be safe if he tries anything. You also must make it very clear that despite appearances, he will not be left alone with anyone, particularly the Captain. He will be under surveillance at all times. One wrong step and he will be transported to the brig."

"Will he know that you were the source of our evidence?"

"It doesn't matter. He won't mention anything even if he does figure it out. It's more important to maintain his cover than to succeed in this hunt. He can't risk the chance we'll expose him."

"Very well." /I looked at VC carefully. You couldn't tell he'd been ripped open by a monster, mentally and physically, barely an hour before./ "I will deliver our ultimatum as soon as I can."

/He nodded./ "Keep me informed." /And then he was gone again. To this day, he has never told me what actually passed between himself and Kashyk./

/Now that Captain Janeway's plan (with VC's hard-bought insurance) has successfully concluded, I asked VC to speak to the Captain. He has refused, so here it ends. But I will be keeping an eye on him, and assist him however I can in his recovery./

END LOG

***************************************************************

Tom Paris's hands were shaking and his face wet with tears as he finally laid the padd to rest. He felt bile rise again, but there was nothing left. He'd already thrown up all he had already.

He'd opened it accidentally. Things had been so tense with all of Kashyk's inspections that he'd fallen behind on his reports. The shift in Sickbay the day after they finally moved out of Devore range was the perfect opportunity to catch up. The EMH's padd got mixed in with his own when he'd left at the end of the day. After dinner in his quarters he decided to get everything finished, and flipped on the nondescript device.

The first few lines had intrigued Tom, but the text soon had his stomach roiling. He'd lost his meal by the time he'd finished the first description of the man's injuries. It hit a little too close to home. He was shuddering by the time he'd reached the end.

Tom flashed back to Aukland and the few times he'd gotten caught by himself in the wrong place. It took long moments to calm his breathing, but eventually he settled down and took a little time to remember how far he'd come since then.

***********

The turning point had come fairly early in Voyager's journey, when he'd still spent every minute looking over his shoulder. He'd been sent on an errand to the lower decks, and every hair on his body was standing on end. Tom knew what waited for him around the next corner. He froze, back pressed against the wall, when angry voices sounded in the other corridor.

He'd been shocked into risking a glance when he'd heard the unmistakable noises of flesh impacting on flesh. His jaw had dropped at the sight.

Six burly Maquis lay sprawled on the gray carpet or slumped against the walls, groaning and rubbing various bleeding, bruised body parts. Chakotay, dressed in casual clothes, stood glowering above them. He wasn't even breathing hard. The Commander's stone cold tone and eyes sent chills down Tom's spine.

"I am only going to say this once, so you'd better pass the word." Chakotay regarded each man in turn. "Tom Paris is under my protection. That means if you go after him, you deal with me. And since you cowards couldn't even face him one on one, I'm holding all of you responsible for everyone on this ship. Maquis *and* 'Fleet. If Paris's quarters are trashed, I come to you. He 'slips in the shower,' I come to you. *Anyone* lays a finger on him uninvited, and you'll be feeling much more than my fist. And if he ever has an 'accident,' you'll be sharing space with our new pilot, either in the Sickbay or the morgue. Do I make myself clear?" He read the fear in each man's eyes as they nodded, then continued down the corridor as if nothing had happened.

Tom had ducked back into his own hall, hurrying toward the turbolift. He nearly jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder. "Easy, Paris, nobody's after you." Chakotay sobered. "And if our aching friends are smart, nobody ever will be."

"How did you know?"

"That you were there?" His eyes indicated Tom's blond hair. "You might want to consider some camouflage next time."

"Damn." Tom shook his head. 

Chakotay seemed ill-at-ease as the two men stepped on the turbolift. "Look, Paris, I need to ask you this." Serious brown eyes pinned him. "In prison, did any of the Maquis---"

"Hassle me?" Tom shook his head, then shrugged. "In prison I *was* a Maquis. It's the 'Fleet guys I had to watch out for---" He stopped in shock, surprised the information had slipped out.

Chakotay's eyes mixed relief and compassion. "Thank you, and---I'm sorry." He looked down a moment, then back. "The Captain has asked me to...help people adjust to things. If you ever need to talk..."

"I know where you live?" Tom shrugged again. "I don't think so. But thanks for the offer and..." he hesitated, "what you did back there. You didn't have to."

"Yes I did." This time it was the Commander's turn to shrug. "I wanted to. No matter how you got here, Paris, you *are* a member of my crew." He moved to the exit as the lift stopped. Over his shoulder he tossed, "Remember that."

Tom leaned against the wall, alone in the lift with a lot to think about.

That was five years ago. Tom had eventually taken Chakotay up on his offer, and been surprised to discover his former Captain was an able counselor. The Commander was capable of setting aside their personal and professional differences to offer a sympathetic ear and necessary insights. Though the two had never discussed the sessions, even after they ended, Tom was grateful to Chakotay for helping him to grow up and become his own man.

************

Now it seemed someone else was in need of Chakotay's counsel.

Tom sighed and returned to the first page of the report. He read again, this time inserting the identity of the "VC," that is, "Vulcan Crewmember." He shook his head as he involuntarily pictured Tuvok's broken, bleeding body.

It made sense. He was the most likely candidate from the handful of people who would have those "mental walls" to keep Kashyk out, and Tuvok had hovered pretty close to the Captain after the Devore Inspector had been granted asylum.

Tom weighed the Security Chief's preference for privacy with his own need to make sure the wounded man had what he needed to heal. He briefly considered going to the Vulcan himself, but felt hopelessly unequal to the task. He truly believed Tuvok would be better served by Chakotay's steadfast, nonjudgmental support. It had certainly done Tom a world of good.

Tom brushed his teeth, took a long drink and set out on his errand of mercy.

*************

Tom could feel the sweat gathering under his grip on the padd as he seated himself in Chakotay's dimly lit quarters. Halfway to the Commander's door Tom had stopped and debated whether to wait until he could make an office appointment.

Chakotay had also had a rough time while Kashyk was aboard. The pain dulling his brown eyes had been well hidden, but a few of the senior staff suspected he was in mourning. The Captain's obvious attraction to the Devore Inspector had clearly sounded the death knell to any romantic hopes that might have lingered in Chakotay's heart. It was the final proof Voyager's command team would never be more than friends.

A quick reminder of all Tuvok had suffered firmed Tom's resolve, but now he was tongue-tied as he sat facing the Commander's quiet regard. Chakotay broke the silence. "Can you tell me what's bothering you?" He glanced at the padd and attempted to lighten the atmosphere. "A 'Dear Tom' letter, perhaps?"

"No, no, nothing like that." Tom shook himself and took a deep breath. "Have you asked yourself why Kashyk just...let us go?"

"I---"

The words came out in a rush. "Well, it wasn't all that easy. It turns out someone blackmailed the bastard into leaving Voyager alone. They used genetic samples to prove he was some kind of telepath, and threatened to expose him if we didn't have clear sailing out of Devore space."

Chakotay's eyes widened. "Where did you get your information? And why wait until now, when we're out of danger?"

Tom leaned forward. "Because Tuvok paid a terrible price for the blackmail materials, and now he's dealing with it all alone. Well, not entirely. The Doc is helping all he can, I'm sure, but I know Tuvok needs more---a friendly ear, unwavering support, someone who can keep their cool so he feels comfortable talking about things. He needs you, Chakotay."

A deep breath preceded Chakotay's next question. "And how did you find out about...all this?"

"I didn't mean to read it, it was an accident, really. I turned on the padd and saw the first few lines and then I couldn't stop." Tom handed over the slim unit.

Tom watched as Chakotay read the report, his color fading alarmingly. When the Commander reached the end he just stared into space for a minute, then tapped his comm badge.

"Chakotay to the Doctor." His voice held the slightest hint of strain.

"Yes, Commander?"

Chakotay kept a careful eye on his visitor. "I simply wanted to let you know that I have your report. I picked it up earlier to review it, but forgot to tell you."

"Thank you for letting me know. It's perfectly understandable that you'd want to reassure yourself of your anonymity. Keep it as long as you want."

"I'd like to add some levels of encryption. I'll return it tomorrow before shift."

"Very good, Commander. Doctor out."

Tom felt his empty stomach lurch once more as Chakotay took Tuvok's place in his imaginings. He felt the blood draining from his face as he whispered in horror, "You?"

"Yes." Chakotay's voice was calm enough, but he quickly put some distance between them. He stopped by the viewport and turned to face the blond. "Our doctor is still rather literal. If 'VC' had stood for Vulcan Crewmember, he'd have constantly written '*the* VC'."

Tom nodded. "Instead it stands for Voyager's Commander."

"Or Victim Chakotay." Chakotay's voice had gone flat.

A sudden thought had Tom leaning forward. "But that's not possible. His report mentioned 'mental walls.' There *are* no human telepaths."

"True, but I have had years of meditation. Anyway, in the end, the walls weren't strong enough." Chakotay folded his arms as if hugging himself to keep the cold out, or hold the pain in.

Tom peered into the shadows, trying to read the dark eyes that had hidden so much anguish. "So Kashyk got in, and hurt you. And you haven't shared this with anyone, have you Chakotay?" Tom stood, working things out. "Who *can* you talk to if you want to spare them the guilt? The Captain would hate herself for not realizing how she put us all in danger, and as for Tuvok---he would feel guilty just for being a telepath. He may not show it, but you know he'll feel responsible just the same." 

He paused. "And your friends in the Maquis would never understand."

Tom stepped toward Chakotay's still figure, a statue framed by the passing stars. "What happened to you, Chakotay? Please, talk to me. Trust me, man to man. Not 'Paris' and 'Commander' or 'Counselor' and 'Patient.' Just Tom and Chakotay. Friends." 

He sighed at the lack of response. "Anywhere, anytime, anything you need. I promise I'll be here for you. Remember that."

Chakotay was silent for another long moment. Then, "I understand. But for now, I'd rather be alone."

Tom thought he heard the slightest hint of softening in Chakotay's response. He decided to hold on to that belief with its attendant spark of hope.

Defeated for the moment, Tom turned to leave. As he reached the exit he heard a quiet, "Thank you, Tom." But when he glanced over his shoulder, Chakotay had already shifted to stare at the stars.

His figure was hidden from view as the door slid shut between them.


	2. Chapter 2

SUPPLEMENTAL PRIVATE LOG OF ENS. THOMAS EUGENE PARIS, FEDERATION STARSHIP VOYAGER

/I feel like I'm going to explode. Every day on the bridge the scream builds inside me, clawing at my throat for release. I want to jump out of my chair and yell at the top of my lungs, tell them all what happened. Make them *see.*/

/It's been two weeks and Chakotay hasn't called. I know he hasn't gone to anyone else; he's been in crowds or locked alone in his cabin every night. I think he's avoiding me. We haven't had any contact except during shift. And even then I've only seen "the Commander."/

/He's so cool and professional. Fulfilling his duties with his usual aplomb. Uniform and calm command mask perfectly in place. I know it sounds crazy, but that makes me even more angry---with everyone else./

/Why don't they *look* at him? I never realized how much we take him for granted. Assume he's nothing more than the quiet, steady presence that anchors us. On the surface Chakotay pretends to be as serene and unruffled as ever. The man is a consummate actor. Now that he knows I'm looking for it, even that hint of pain is gone from his eyes. That small chink in his armor now perfectly patched and smooth./

/And nobody bothers to look any closer. They just dump their professional and personal problems in his lap like so many data padds and merrily go on their way, knowing that he'll make everything right again. And he does---bastard. It would give me an opening if he'd at least start slacking off, or slipping up. Instead he goes along, reliable as always. And nobody but me notices how different he is. After Kashyk./

/His eyes are dead. I never understood before that they spoke to me. Of laughter, or a rueful commiseration on days when the Delta Quadrant seemed out to get us. Sometimes even of respect and friendship. Right now I crave any little sign, the rare flash of anger, or even that elusive echo of pain. Those eyes are lifeless now, but no one notices because his mouth still smiles and says all the right things./

/He moves differently too. He's so much more cautious, as if his body isn't convinced that it's healed. He sits with his back to the wall, and spins to see who's behind him as soon as he hears footsteps. He doesn't touch anyone. True, you'd never accuse Chakotay of being "Mr. Touchy-Feely," but a quick pat of that warm hand never failed to raise your spirits or calm your fears./

/It hurts me to watch when people touch him. He doesn't flinch, or freeze, or try to pull away. He just goes still. Like an animal caught in the hunter's grip, trapped, simply waiting to be released or have its throat slit./

/I'm beginning to hate the Captain. Yeah, the Captain: the one who got me out of Aukland, gave me my commission, trusts me with her ship. I can't help it. She won't stop talking about that *bastard* Kashyk. Congratulating herself on her oh-so-clever plan. Her ability to 'distract' him. The way *she* bested the Inspector. How charming he was. What a pity he turned out to be such a bad boy. And all the while Chakotay sits there with a grin like the rictus of a corpse and those dead, dead eyes. That's when the scream crawls up into my mouth and bangs against my clenched teeth, desperate to be freed./

/I'm dreaming about him. Chakotay's eyes are alive again and laughing up at me; his head is in my lap and I stroke his soft dark hair. That's it; nothing else. Just his eyes and my hand and the sun warm on my back./

END LOG

************************************************************

B'Elanna Torres tapped her foot against Sandrine's photonic hardwood floor, impatiently awaiting her lover. Tom was late. Again. When she first noticed him rushing in at the last minute for their dates, she put it down to a kind of unconscious revenge for all the occasions she'd abandoned him for her engines. But now she was really worried.

She couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, but Tom had become...distracted. Sometimes in the middle of a conversation his eyes would lose focus as he drifted off to a world of his own. Or they would roam whatever room the two of them were in as if searching for something. Perhaps someone.

Worst of all, they hadn't made love in weeks, even though they'd finally left the knife edge known as Devore space. Sex had always been the one constant in their relationship. It didn't matter if they were flirting, fussing, or fighting, Tom was *always* ready to jump into bed. In quiet, solitary moments deep in the night, B'Elanna sometimes wondered if that was all they had. If she and Tom were really lovers, or just friends who fucked.

B'Elanna gritted her teeth and resisted asking the computer for the time. It would just emphasize the fact that she no longer seemed to be a priority in Tom's life. She sipped her beer and let her gaze drift around the bar, cataloging all the admiring glances, male and female. Just in case.

****************

Tom sat at his terminal, busily hacking his way through replicator records. He had watched Chakotay---strategically placed at a table with a bunch from the Science Division---pick at his dinner, leaving almost half of it on the plate. Tom wanted to see if the Commander was supplementing his diet with some comfort food. While the fact that he replicated the meals didn't guarantee he ate them, it would bring some measure of reassurance.

Tom was also making sure that nothing else was being crafted in Chakotay's cabin. Alcohol or drugs. He knew the Commander wouldn't take the chance of actually acquiring contraband from another crewmember. But Tom understood the lure of oblivion, especially right now when Chakotay's mental and emotional wounds were still so raw.

Sort of felt like he could use a drink himself. He had spent days tracking Chakotay's movements, trying to figure out a way to get him one on one. He also spent time attempting to convince himself that he *could* help the Commander on his own. Although Tom had been willing to compromise Tuvok's privacy when he thought the Vulcan needed help, he was loath to betray the Commander's trust. Which meant Tom couldn't even call the doctor for advice, since Chakotay had covered up his accidental reading of the report. Anyway, he doubted the EMH was having any better luck getting the Commander to talk. Chakotay was avoiding Sickbay as adroitly as the Captain usually did.

As the computer cycled through his commands, he happened to glance at the chronometer on the desk. He was late meeting B'Elanna on the holodeck. Again. Tom put his head in his hands briefly and sighed, then dashed out the door, leaving the display still scrolling.

*****************

At first the Doctor thought there was a glitch in his programming. He'd felt compelled to check the padd every few hours. That it was still in Sickbay, that the encryption was in place, that the text hadn't been accessed or altered in some way. The morbid nature of his obsession was unnerving.

He debated asking Lieutenant Torres or another engineer to check his matrix, but couldn't figure out a way of explaining his problem without involving the Commander. Besides, his self-diagnostics came up clean.

He realized his actual problem by accident. He'd decided to review his own counseling and psychological subroutines to be prepared in case Chakotay came to him for advice, or just to talk to someone who knew what he'd been through. Of course, the EMH was acutely aware that he could never understand the experiences or their impact. He was slightly ashamed to be glad he'd never know such pain. But he'd finally figured out that his primary motivation...emotion...was guilt. He still hadn't come to terms with his own failure to stop Chakotay from that second, devastating trip to Kashyk's cabin.

He'd been stymied in his attempts to get the First Officer into Sickbay for some real conversation. And because the Commander wouldn't make any official record or request, the Doctor couldn't force him into counseling. Or even assuage his own sense of responsibility by dumping the whole situation on the Captain.

He finally decided to check the encryption on the report one last time, put the padd in the back of a drawer, and hope someone *did* access it. Until that occurred or Chakotay relented, all the EMH could do was wait. And try to forget.

*****************

Chakotay came out of his meditation and asked himself why he still bothered. His spirit guide couldn't offer any balm to ease his mind or soul. Just time. But he could measure the time passing in each scream that freed him from his nightmares, in every star whizzing by as Voyager left Devore space behind. And as time passed, he could feel himself slipping further and further away from the man he used to be. Before Kashyk.

He sighed and gathered his medicine bundle, carefully putting it in the bedside cabinet. He touched it a moment, remembering the silence on the spirit plane. The she-wolf didn't speak, simply gazed at him with her fathomless eyes. She waited for him to tell her of his sorrows.

But Chakotay had no words, just a vague, mute grayness that kept him safe, blanketed in its numbing embrace. He liked it, for when the fog shrouded his mind he could forget about everything except the space between one breath and the next. There was no past, no future, and the present was lived behind the serene façade of the Commander. He knew as long as the work got done and people heard what they wanted to hear, they would see what they wanted to see. And no one wanted to see the truth. Even him.

Chakotay frowned as some small contrary part of his spirit nudged him, pointing out the lie. The Doctor knew the truth. So did Tom. They were both willing to help. He just shook his head, shooing away the disruptive thoughts like gnats. He looked at the bed, swallowed, and hoped that tonight the grayness would save him from dark dreams.

***************************************************

Tom was so full of conflicting emotions he could hardly keep still. Finally, after a month, he received a summons to Chakotay's office. He was on edge, silently urging time to pass faster as he waited in his cabin until he could be on his way.

Relief had surged through him knowing that the Commander had overcome his reticence and was ready to let someone in. Tom had seen very few other signs of improvement. Chakotay had dropped just a little bit of weight, probably because he still wasn't eating very well. Occasionally Tom thought he caught the faintest glimmer of cosmetics, possibly hiding dark circles.

And while things had gotten easier on the bridge since the Captain had finally shut up about Kashyk, Chakotay's dark gaze was as lifeless as ever. Tom had stopped expecting other people to notice; it had simply been too long now for them to recognize the difference.

Tom hopped up from his sofa, walking around the cabin and drumming his fingers on pieces of furniture as he passed them. Finally, things were going to break---the tension of waiting had started to affect other parts of his life.

Harry had started giving him strange looks. He'd been asking a few pointed questions, too. Of course Harry wasn't aware of the changes in the First Officer, but he *had* noticed his best friend's lack of concentration and rather subdued manner of late. He'd even offered a friendly ear if Tom wanted to talk about his romantic troubles.

Tom's relationship with B'Elanna was in a shambles. He knew she was at her wits' end. He couldn't explain why he kept forgetting their dates, or why he sometimes wasn't "all there." There'd been a couple of close calls when he'd accidentally forgotten to hide the results of his illicit computer investigations.

Worse yet, they weren't sleeping together anymore. Or really connecting at all. Most of the time it was due to scheduling conflicts. B'Elanna was reacting to his distraction by spending more time with her engines---and her engineering staff. Sometimes he'd enter Sandrine's to meet B'Elanna only to find her comfortably ensconced at a table full of gold-and-black uniforms. Once he'd even spied her at the resort in a daring new swimsuit. She couldn't have worn it for him---he'd been scheduled to work in Sickbay when the Doc had let him off early.

Tom was surprised B'Elanna had held her tongue and temper for so long. She hadn't asked him outright if there was anyone else, or if things were over between them. But he figured time was running out.

Now it didn't matter. Tom knew that if he could just help Chakotay, then everything would go back to normal. He'd patch things up with B'Elanna, and his life would get back on track. There was an eagerness in his steps as he headed for the Commander's office.

*****************

Chakotay dreaded this meeting. He'd been avoiding Tom Paris since the night the pilot revealed he'd read the report. Chakotay still didn't know what possessed him to contact the doctor right then; he could just as easily have lied to Tom and said he'd talk to Tuvok about it. Spirits knew he was good at pretending these days.

He pulled out a small hand mirror and carefully checked his appearance. It was surprising the skills that came in handy later in life. His brief stint in the Academy theater group had served him well. In several ways, including the application of makeup. Just a hint of highlighter and concealer, and no one would guess he was still securely in the grip of his nightmares.

He wished he could sleep undisturbed. Chakotay sighed and stuck the mirror in a drawer. He could wish for many things, time-travel among them, but wishing would not make his life any better. Or his meeting with Ensign Paris any easier.

The chime sounded. Chakotay straightened his back, clasped his hands, composed his features, and called, "Enter."

*****************

Tom's eyes immediately flew to Chakotay as he walked into the office. The Commander was seated behind his desk, as professional as always. Tom hovered in the middle of the room, uncertain where to settle.

He watched Chakotay rise with his now-customary care, and walk to the small sofa and chairs. "If you'd have a seat, Ensign."

The tone was not what he expected. Still cool, detached. Tom warily made his way over and found a seat. "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Chakotay settled into a chair, tension clear on his face. "Yes, Tom. It's been brought to my attention that you haven't been yourself lately."

Tom blinked. "You want to talk about *me*?"

Chakotay stood and put the sofa between them. "Several of your friends are concerned about your behavior. They've tried speaking to you about it but you've blown them off." He paused. "While these aberrations haven't impacted your bridge performance, they are affecting your off-duty life."

"And what would you suggest I do about it, *Commander*?" Tom heard the edge in his tone. He'd been so sure Chakotay would open up to him.

"Mind your own business. Stay out of things that don't concern you. Get back to living your life." The orders were staccato, reflecting the tightness of Chakotay's voice.

"But I *am* concerned, Chakotay. Very concerned. About you." Tom stood as well. Time to go on the offensive. "And since you're not talking to the Doc and I'm the only other person who knows what happened with Kashyk, I'd say that makes me involved."

"You don't know anything, Paris, and you are most definitely not involved. So I'd appreciate it if you just forgot you ever read that damn report." There was the faintest hint of anger in the even tones.

Tom's jaw firmed. "No."

Black brows lowered as Chakotay frowned. "No? Consider it an order."

"No, Sir." Tom was encouraged by that tiny spark of annoyance. "What will you do, charge me with insubordination? How would you explain it to the Captain?" Tom took a step closer, chin tilted in defiance. "You can pretend all you want, but I *am* involved, Chakotay, and I will be until I know you're okay."

"Even if it costs you B'Elanna?" Chakotay paused, then pounced. "That's right, Tom. She's angry and confused and, yes, *concerned* about you. First she just wanted to vent to a friend, but now she's officially approached me as a counselor. She doesn't understand what's going on."

Chakotay's gestures were abrupt, lacking their former grace. "You make dates, then you're late or fail to show up at all. You barely pay attention to her when the two of you finally do get together. Your mind wanders---so do your eyes. You're lacking your usual bounce, you don't make stupid jokes anymore, you've stopped complaining about Neelix's cooking."

He pressed his advantage while Tom struggled with a response. "But there's more, right? I didn't tell her about your forays into the logs, or the location checks you've been running on me. She might get the wrong idea."

Chakotay stopped and the emotion faded from his face. His voice quieted. "You don't touch B'Elanna anymore. You don't kiss, or cuddle, or make love. She thinks it's over between you and she's not even sure how it happened. Or why."

He swallowed. "You have a woman who loves you, Tom, who you're supposed to love in return. That's something special, something that you *can't* throw away out of some misplaced sense of responsibility or guilt. Just walk away. Forget about all this, go to B'Elanna, and work things out."

Tom shook his head, but he wasn't sure what he was denying. "How can I forget about it when I know you can't? Why haven't you asked me for help, or at least gone to the Doc? We can't go backward, Chakotay. I can't pretend I never picked up that padd. I don't want to."

"You have to." The soft voice roughened as Chakotay looked away. "Please, Tom. You have to do this now. While there's still a chance. Don't make your relationship with B'Elanna another casualty of...him."

"Kashyk. You can't even say his name." Tom moved to capture dark eyes. "How about the changes in you, Chakotay? You hide yourself in the shadows, you don't eat right, or sleep well. You move like you're still hurting. And you are, inside and out. You have to be feeling so much, but you wouldn't know it to look in your eyes."

Tom lifted his hands in appeal. "Why can't you talk to me, Chakotay? If I knew you were all right I could let this go. I could patch things up with B'Elanna and laugh with Harry and be the carefree Flyboy everybody seems to miss. But right now, I'm not carefree. Because I care about you. Please, trust me."

"It's not going to happen." Chakotay seemed to weight each word with certainty. "Not today, not tomorrow. Maybe not ever."

The Commander must have decided to change tactics---he gave a derisive snort. "You should give me a break, Paris. It took you almost two years to trust me enough for counseling, and even then you spent six months dithering until you finally got around to talking about what happened to you."

Tom felt his back stiffen in a defensive stance. Saw the ploy and reminded himself to keep his cool. "Maybe so, but I was a cynical, immature brat then. And it took a lot for me to reveal my secrets. That isn't the situation here; I already know what happened."

Chakotay's lips curled in a sneer. "So what? You're not a counselor. Hell, neither am I. At least, not a very good one."

Tom felt tension racheting with his confusion. He couldn't sense where this was heading. "What are you talking about? You helped me to heal, to reclaim my sense of self. Thanks to you I'm a better man."

"Oh, please. *You* can pretend all you want, Paris, but we both know that isn't true. You've never really come to terms with your past." Chakotay looked him over. "Think back to the man you were in the Maquis. I'm sure you remember."

Full lips twisted in self-derision. "Although I did let Tuvok and Seska aboard, even I couldn't be *that* blind. You had so many men in your bed that you barely qualified as bi." Chakotay paused, meeting Tom's eyes. "Since Aukland you haven't let another man touch you. You probably never will. So much for the benefits of counseling."

The words burst from Tom, "Maybe that's because the only man whose touch I want never gave me the slightest hint he was interested." He ended with a gasp, stunned by his own revelation. Tom looked for Chakotay's reaction. His hands clenched as he watched Chakotay's face contort with grief.

When Chakotay finally answered, his voice was hoarse. "If that's true, then I'm sorry for both of us. You're a few weeks too late, and a lifetime. That man no longer exists."

"Yes, he does." Tom leaned in, though he didn't dare move closer. "I'm sure of it. You just can't see that right now because of the rape and---"

"Rape?" Chakotay startled Tom with a brittle laugh. His eyes were too bright. "You just don't get it, do you Paris? There was no rape. It was just sex that got a little out of hand. Everything that happened, I agreed to. He had my consent." Chakotay stepped closer, forcing the point home. "I said Yes. Every step of the way."

Tom swayed. His limbs felt frozen, his head thick with all the words and emotions that had passed between them.

Chakotay moved toward the door. When he reached it, he turned to look at Tom, voice calm and armor in place once more. "So you see, while I can understand and accept your disgust, I am tired of dealing with your pity. I don't need it. I don't want it. I'll be fine." He spun and triggered the door, but didn't look back. "Do what you want about B'Elanna. Get back together, or break clean. It's your life. Stay out of mine." Then he was gone.

Tom sank to his knees in the silent room.


	3. Chapter 3

PRIVATE LOG OF CAPT. KATHRYN JANEWAY, FEDERATION STARSHIP VOYAGER

/Hindsight is supposed to bring clarity. My world is transformed, established patterns wiped away in a single turn of life's kaleidoscope. I can see the new arrangement, but I have yet to understand when or why things changed./

/B'Elanna and Tom have called it quits. The one acknowledged couple among my senior staff has parted company. Not with a bang, or even a whimper. It's as though one of them woke up one morning and decided their affair must end, and the other agreed. No acrimony or accusations, no shouts or tears. Nothing but a brisk shake of hands and a promise to remain friends./

/I can't decide now if they were ever really in love, or whether I simply wanted them to be. Those two gave me such hope for the future. I had dreams of presiding over their wedding, of being godmother to their firstborn. Now, these things will never come to pass./

/There were the faintest hints of dissatisfaction, but I thought they were simply the restive movements of people settling down, jostling knees and elbows as two lives merged into one. I didn't recognize they were in truth the awkward disentangling of lovers drawing apart to head in different directions./

/Both Tom and B'Elanna seem strangely content. He was quiet, almost somber for a while before the breakup. Now his high spirits have returned, tempered by an even greater confidence and sense of self. It's as though he has confirmed an inner strength that lets him stand alone./

/B'Elanna is...reflective. At first I thought she was simply evincing the resigned droop of dreams defeated, but no more. She seems instead to have turned inward, set off on a journey of self-discovery. I wonder where her wanderings will take her, and what she will find./

/I asked Chakotay if he had seen the currents shifting, but he claimed he could not divulge confidences. I assume he meant B'Elanna's. She has always hurled her emotions like stones into his pool of calm, knowing that when the ripples faded only truths would float back up to be gathered into her cupped hands./

/My First Officer's reaction to Tom and B'Elanna's relationship has never matched my expectations. Despite the turbulent history between my "reclamation project" and his former captain, Chakotay never said one word against Tom when the sister of Chakotay's heart let Tom into hers. He was supportive of her, but left her free to make her own decisions./

/It's no different now. As the rest of the crew murmur their analyses of the end of the romance and whisper their speculations---even hopes---for future pairings, Chakotay remains silent. His thoughts on this, as everything else, a mystery until he chooses to disclose them./

/He is less forthcoming these days. Not that anything distinctive about him has changed. Our rapport is as smooth as ever, but I have noticed he sometimes has a pensive air. Perhaps the rumors were correct and his world has altered as well, into one that finally holds no hope of love between us./

/I wonder if that is true, if he had kept that wish close to his heart until now. My reaction is...many things, both glad and sorry. I must admit that I built, piece by piece, the wall that kept us apart. On New Earth he'd begun to wear it down, patient as water smoothing stone. But he ran out of time./

/Back on Voyager, he watched me restore all the sharply defined protocols that made up the barrier. Respected my boundaries. Honored his promise to ease my burdens. And kept his opinions to himself. Perhaps he did see Kashyk as confirmation that the wall would never be breached or vaulted. Chakotay certainly made no secret of his dislike of the handsome Devore Inspector, or his distrust./

/Kashyk was a dangerous man. And that intrigued me, the subtle threat delivered in the guise of urbane discourse. I wondered what he was like without the mask. We plotted together and against each other. We flirted and, I thought, began unspoken negotiations for more. Yet we only kissed once, when we knew that single touch of lips would be all we ever shared. He had suddenly withdrawn from our personal bargaining table. Why? Another abrupt change for reasons I have never discerned, despite the perspective time and distance brings. I doubt I ever will./

END LOG

************************************************************

Tom Paris walked the halls, alone in the stillness of Voyager's night. He moved along the lower decks, mapping the ship with his measured gait.

It had been four days since he broke up with B'Elanna. He'd stayed in Chakotay's office a long time after their confrontation, acknowledging truths that had lain buried for five long years. Then he'd headed straight to his lover.

The two had talked until the next day's shift started. About the past and the future, about their hopes and dreams and feelings. He'd been so afraid, unwilling to hurt the tender, vulnerable woman who lived within the fierce warrior. B'Elanna meant so much to him, but he knew that their relationship was born of honesty. She had to know of the lie he'd been living, one so well constructed that even he had been deceived.

She let him go. Without recriminations or regrets. B'Elanna, too, remembered his time in the Maquis. A part of her had always wondered if Tom could ever find lasting happiness in her arms. And whether she would be truly contented in his. She was taking some time now for herself, to decide what she wanted from life, and love.

After some soul searching, Tom had his own answers. He knew what he needed, and wanted. That his goals would be difficult to achieve didn't faze him. Tom felt renewed, invigorated by the world-altering revelations. It was as though the long-hidden part of himself had shaken loose, unblocking some wellspring of hope and determination to fill him to bursting.

He turned the corner and was shocked to come face to face with Chakotay. "You shouldn't be here," he blurted.

Chakotay nodded, as if some unspoken suspicion had been confirmed. "You're right, I'm usually about six corridors ahead of you. But I thought, if you agreed, that we might walk together for a while."

Tom stared at the Commander, unsuccessfully trying to see beyond the surface calm. Wondered what it could mean, that they'd met up in their nocturnal wanderings. Their last charged encounter, and Chakotay's emphatic demands, had led him to believe Chakotay would continue to avoid him. He never imagined Chakotay would seek him out. "All right."

The two men fell into step, then walked in silence. Chakotay broke it with, "I'm sorry about you and B'Elanna."

Tom sent a sideways glance. He should have known. Chakotay probably wanted to stay curled up in the shadows, licking his wounds. But the counselor, the honorable man and, he hoped, the friend, would never leave this to fester between them. "You weren't to blame."

"I can't help thinking I am. As a catalyst, if not a cause." He briefly met Tom's eyes. "She was anxious that I not pound you into the ground for hurting her."

"Little did she know that you'd be beating up yourself instead." Tom sighed. "How is she?"

"Surprisingly well. We talked. She knows, thanks to you, that she can love and be loved. And that having the relationship end doesn't mean she wasn't worthy. Right now she just wants to be by herself, until she chooses otherwise." He looked away, then back. "How are you?"

"Over the shock." Tom sighed. "I feel as though I've been looking in the mirror for years, but I hadn't really seen myself until that night in your office."

Chakotay stopped. "I should never have said the things I did. I'm truly sorry, Tom."

"Don't be. You were right." Tom turned and began walking again, the Commander keeping pace. "Not about everything, of course. But you did tell the truth about me."

He fell silent for a dozen steps, gathering his thoughts. "I wasn't even aware I was hiding from myself. When you said what you did, something clicked. I realized that all of my relationships since prison, even with B'Elanna, were just a smokescreen. I *can't* be happy with a woman, not long term. That's probably why I never gave my heart to any of them." He shook his head. "I never even told B'Elanna I loved her."

Now Chakotay took a few steps to consider. Then, "Maybe unconsciously, you were trying to be honest."

Tom nodded. "I'd like to think so. Because I do love B'Elanna, but not the way she deserves."

"I know what you mean," Chakotay murmured, then his voice turned brisk. "So, if all is right with your world, why are you out walking the decks at 0200?"

"You. I know you want me to stay out of your life, Chakotay, but I can't." Tom shrugged. "I'm trying not to be so obvious about it but...I need to know you're OK."

"Tom, you can't keep trailing after me until the small hours of the morning." Chakotay shrugged. "If for no other reason than we can't have a zombie at Voyager's helm."

Tom's lips curved in a wry smile. "And it's not so bad for the First Officer to be sleep deprived? I guess you can't do too much damage if you doze off over a report." 

He sobered. "It's been too long, Chakotay. Your body can't take much more of this. Pretty soon the Doc is going to get involved."

Chakotay didn't respond. When he left Tom four nights ago, he had spent hours simply trying to keep his head above the black sea of regrets and shattered dreams Tom's words had plunged him into. Now his calm had returned, and with it the fog that insulated him from memories, thoughts, feelings, anything that would disturb the fragile peace.

He had been so determined to push Tom away. Why was he now even considering opening up? It could cost him the only protection he had against the ugliness that fueled his nightmares.

"I know, but...I dream," Chakotay finally admitted. "I'm so grateful to wake up, I walk to make myself tired so I *have* to go back to sleep." He sighed. "The Doctor's tried to help. Sedatives don't stop the images, they just make me feel trapped in them."

"I don't suppose you'd let me crash on your couch, just to keep an eye on things." Tom's voice was resigned.

"No, I wouldn't. The point is for you to get back to sleep, in your own bed, and stay there." Chakotay stopped and faced his well-intentioned stalker. "Now promise me, no more midnight strolls."

Tom surprised him with an easy victory. "I will, if you do something for me."

Chakotay tensed. "What?"

"I need to go to my cabin first. Come with me, please." The earnestness of the blue eyes drew Chakotay forth, despite his misgivings. He followed in silence as they traveled to Deck Four and Tom's quarters.

Tom keyed in the door code. As it opened, he said, "I'll just be a moment."

Curious and now slightly anxious, Chakotay entered and hovered just out of range of the door sensors. He watched Tom disappear into the bedroom, and return with a teddy bear the size of a 1-year-old. It was made in an old-fashioned style, with a long nose and floppy loose limbs. The fur was chocolate-milk brown, which set off the bright black eyes.

"This," Tom held the stuffed toy out to Chakotay, who reluctantly cradled it, "is Alfred. He's named after Batman's butler."

Tom looked down to his shuffling feet, suddenly shy. "If you don't know, Batman is a 20th-century superhero with a pretty dark past. Alfred would patch Batman up after a fight, give him a pep talk when he was down, listen to his fears---and keep safe all his secrets."

He shrugged. "It sounds silly, but Alfred helped me with my nightmares after I came aboard." He suddenly grinned, "And he's the soul of discretion."

A pale hand lifted to stroke the bear, but Chakotay darted away, startled. Could feel his face flush in embarrassment and tried to hand it back. "I don't need---"

"I know, you don't need a toy to help you sleep. But...take Alfred, please, Chakotay. I need to know you're not alone." Tom's eyes held no censure, only concern.

Chakotay rubbed one finger against the soft fur, and loosened ever-so-slightly his death grip on the grayness, letting rueful amusement sneak underneath the blanket's edge. "Is this the only way I'm going to get rid of you?"

"You're never going to get rid of me, but I will promise not to follow you around the ship anymore." Tom shrugged. "That's my best offer."

Chakotay sighed. "Computer, how many crewmembers are between this location and my quarters?"

"There are no biosignatures registering in the indicated halls or turbolifts at this time."

Chakotay moved toward the door. "Remember your promise, Tom. Stay put from now on."

Tom's reply made him pause. "I remember all my promises to you, Chakotay. Make sure you do the same."

Chakotay nodded silently, then left, carrying the toy.

*******************************************************

Harry Kim stirred the current Delta Quadrant equivalent of oatmeal and waited for Tom to arrive. He was awash in confusion. His anchors in Voyager's uncertain journey were no longer so secure.

Tom and B'Elanna were still his friends, but the two were no longer lovers. But they were still friends. And neither half of the former couple had really explained what happened.

Harry's reverie was interrupted by the plonk of his fellow ensign's tray on the table. "Hi Harry," Tom said, even more...there was no other word for it, happy...than the day before.

"You're in a good mood," Harry responded, trying to decide if it was some kind of act.

"I slept like a baby, from the end of shift all night through." Tom grinned and surreptitiously scanned the room, a now-established habit.

Harry eyed his friend. "I didn't know that was a cause for celebration."

"You'd be surprised, Har, how little it takes to brighten my day." Tom's voice was as soft as his expression.

"So tell me. Please Tom." Harry leaned in, inviting confidences. "I really need to understand all this. What's happened with you and B'Elanna?"

Tom seemed to study him. "All right, but you have to keep an open mind." Now Tom leaned forward, dropping his voice. "Harry, I broke up with B'Elanna because...I'm gay."

"What!" Harry barely got the word past his shock. "How? You've never *been* with a guy, Tom. In five years, I've only seen you with women. You've only talked about women. How can you sit there and tell me you're gay."

"You're right. Technically, I'm bi. I've been denying that part of myself for a long time. But the rock-bottom truth is, if given a choice, I'd always go with a man. For lust, for love." Tom gestured, "For a quick fuck or a lifelong bond. After I recognized the whole of my sexuality, women were second choice."

Harry lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "And you just figured this out a few days ago? What about B'Elanna?"

"No, I was just reminded, or allowed myself to remember...it's too complicated to explain. As for B'Elanna, she knew all about it. That's probably why she agreed to call it quits so easily." Tom looked at Harry. "I do love her, but just as a friend. We probably shouldn't have taken that next step at all."

Harry squinted at Tom, judging his sincerity. A sudden suspicion made him frown. "This isn't because of me, right?"

Tom snorted a laugh. "No, you're not my type. But," he laid a hand on Harry's arm, suddenly serious, "are you going to be OK with this?"

Harry looked at the anxious face in front of him and smiled. He was mistaken. His anchors were still firmly grounded, the links intact. "We're best friends, Tom. Nothing's going to change that. Besides," he shrugged, "if B'Elanna doesn't have a problem with this, how could I? I'm supposed to be the reasonable one in this group."

Tom squeezed Harry's arm, then sat back and ate his breakfast.

*****************

Chakotay quickly made the bed, pulling the sheets taut to hide the wrinkles. He settled the cover and pillows in place, then turned to the bedside cabinet.

Resting against the lamp base was Alfred. Chakotay picked up the toy and looked into the twinkling black eyes. "I don't know how you do it," he whispered and shook his head. After giving the toy an quick squeeze he hastily set it at the head of the bed, still a little embarrassed.

Alfred didn't keep away the nightmares, not by a long shot. But he did, in some inexplicable way, make it easier to cope. Though the images and memories were as horrific as ever, on some level Chakotay could feel the bear in his arms and it reminded him that it was all just a dream. He'd already survived Kashyk, and would contiue to do so. Or maybe it was just that Alfred was Tom's, and a tangible sign that Chakotay wasn't alone. Someone knew, and cared, and understood.

*****************

The EMH heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief as he checked his latest readings. He'd been surreptitiously monitoring the Commander since Kashyk left, and had found himself on the horns of a dilemma. Biologically, Chakotay had shown signs of lingering exhaustion. But there had been no lapses in the performance of his duties, and outwardly there was little indication of his suffering.

He wanted to let someone else know of the First Officer's condition and what had disturbed Chakotay's rest. On the other hand, he didn't want to betray his patient's confidentiality, or trust, without a better reason than his own lingering guilt.

For weeks, he stood by silently as Chakotay continued as if nothing had happened. The only visible symptom was reduced appetite, and that could easily be explained away by Neelix's cooking. Though the EMH was certain subtler clues were there, they were beyond the doctor's ken. His programming was sophisticated, but he'd had little experience with such deliberate trauma, or its aftermath.

He had finally decided enough was enough, he was going to the Captain, when Chakotay's vitals began to improve. The upswing was gradual, but it was a beginning. He would keep his eyes open, and continue to keep his mouth shut. He owed Chakotay no less.

*******************************************************

Tom stepped onto the holodeck and let the doors slide shut behind him. He was on a beach at the final edge of sunset, the waves an endless cascade against the sand, the slightest of breezes stirring the long thin grasses on the dunes. He waited to be absorbed into the moment, then headed for a lone figure sitting in the distance.

As his sneakers crunched, marking his trail, Tom recalled that it was an anniversary of sorts. Five weeks A.K., After Kashyk. He fervently hoped that the damage done by that monster someday faded enough that he would no longer feel a need to measure time by him.

The wind and water soothed his troubled spirit. He had been caught in a complex mix of emotions since his late-night stroll with Chakotay. Since then, the Commander seemed to be slowly struggling back to his true self, as opposed to the simulacrum he'd been all the days before.

The First Officer was still doing his job, still presenting an assured front, but on a personal level there were differences. Chakotay began spending time with just one or two friends, rather than hiding alone or in crowds. He had stopped those quick, jumpy spins when people came up behind him. His body had relaxed somewhat into its customary supple glide. Not many changes, but a start.

Unfortunately, those encouraging signs had been accompanied by a deliberate withdrawal from Tom himself. Chakotay seemed to be even more determined to avoid his company. Tom found his forays into the Commander's files firmly blocked. The computer had even stopped informing him when Chakotay left his cabin. He was on edge wondering if it was because that program was also disabled, or if Chakotay was finally sleeping through the night.

Three days of the pull between hope and anguish had stretched Tom tight as a bowstring. Before he snapped, he'd received an odd message from the computer. "Commander Chakotay is located in Holodeck Two. Entry authorization for Ensign Paris will commence in one hour." Those sixty minutes felt like the longest of his life.

Tom reached Chakotay, who was sitting barefoot on the sand, the breeze rippling the linen of his off-duty clothes. Powerful arms rested lightly on his upraised knees. "Hello," Tom said softly, obeying the hush of twilight.

Dark eyes turned up to him. Tom didn't know whether to be honored or distressed when he realized Chakotay chose not to hide their pain from him.

Chakotay nodded a greeting. "Hello, Tom. I wanted to thank you, for Alfred."

Tom nodded as well. "I hoped he was helping when the computer didn't wake me the last few days to tell me you'd hit the decks."

He shrugged at Chakotay's raised eyebrows. "Hey, I only promised not to roam the halls. I can worry about you all I like, as long as I do it in the confines of my cabin."

Chakotay shifted to look at the water. "That's the other thing I need to tell you. Now that you've done your share, you must leave me be. I have to heal on my own." He sighed. "When are you going to understand that you can't be a part of this?"

"When you give me a good enough reason." Tom agitatedly launched himself across the sand, striding back and forth in front of Chakotay. "And I have yet to hear one. Mind my own business because I'm not a counselor? Maybe I'm not, but I can still listen. Don't get involved so I won't lose B'Elanna? We are the friends we always should have been, so that's no longer an issue. Back off because you're just fine? Yeah right."

He paused. "Stay out of your life because you say so? Never. If for no other reason, than because I owe you, Chakotay. You were there for me when I needed it."

Tom resumed his pacing, crossing his own footprints in the sand. "Do you know the moment you really helped me, when everything fell into place? It wasn't the night I showed up at your quarters half-drunk on the whiskey it took to get my courage up. The night I told you about Aukland and you let me cry on your shoulder. When you rocked me and talked to me and watched over me as I slept on your couch."

Tom slowed and smiled softly in reminiscence. "It was the next morning, on the bridge. When you treated me the same as you always had. As a fellow officer. A fellow man. You even dressed me down for mouthing off. But there was no contempt or pity when you looked at me, just a greater respect. You accepted me, all of my past, without hesitation. It didn't make me any less in your eyes, or different."

Tom dropped to the ground beside the still figure. "I'm sorry, but I can't do the same for you, Chakotay. I can't treat you as if nothing happened, as if my feelings haven't changed. You mean too much to me." His fists clenched in frustration. "But still you insist on pushing me away. All I want to do is help. I just wish you'd let me."

Waves came and went, the only sound until Chakotay finally spoke. "I won't, but not for the reasons you think. I know you're strong enough to handle whatever I tell you. That you've faced your own nightmares and beaten them. But I don't want you to get tangled up in mine." 

He swallowed. "That night in my office you weren't the only one who realized he was hiding from the truth. I can't let you help me because I want you too much. It would be too easy to get lost in you, to use you as a distraction so I don't think about him."

Chakotay turned to face Tom and opened his hands. "Please understand, Tom. You can't be my reward, or even my consolation prize." 

A shaking head kept Tom silent as Chakotay continued. "It wouldn't be fair to you. I have to be able to stand on my own before I reach out to someone else." 

Suddenly Chakotay dropped his gaze and turned away. "And I can't ask you to wait for me."

"You can't ask me, but I'll be waiting." Tom leaned forward to find dark eyes still so full of shadows. "I love you."

"I know." There was a world of sorrow in Chakotay's voice. "But I can't say how long it will be until I can love you, the way you deserve. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not for a long time."

"I understand. But I don't care, Chakotay. I want you in my life." Chakotay had no response, so Tom shifted toward the water, crossed his arms over his raised knees and settled his chin on them with a defeated sigh. Silence fell between them, broken only by the sound of the waves.

Then, a trembling hand came to rest on Tom's shoulder. Tom felt the warmth seep through cloth and skin to spread throughout his body. He slowly dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and rubbing his cheek against the strong fingers.

After a long moment Tom straightened and looked forward once more. The hand stayed.

As the stars came out and the moon rose, the two men sat and watched the sea.


	4. Chapter 4

PRIVATE LOG OF LT. B'ELANNA TORRES, FEDERATION STARSHIP VOYAGER

/Kahless, I hate these things. What goes on in my life is my business. I don't see why I should record thoughts that may end up in the hands of some nosy p'tahk of a 'Fleet Admiral who couldn't find a clue if I shoved it up his---/

/Hmph. But I *am* trying to make some sense of Tom and me. And now, me alone. Chakotay said this might help give me some perspective. So here goes./

/I knew Tom liked men. Our rooms on the Liberty---closer to closets than cabins---weren't that far apart, so I saw the parade of young bucks traveling in and out of Paris's revolving door. When we were in space, he hooked up with a few members of the crew who liked his looks enough to overlook his past. In dock, he sometimes disappeared for hours or even overnight, since Chakotay kept the ship locked down pretty tight planetside./

/In any case, Tom Paris was definitely a man's man. When we met up again on Voyager, I was kind of shocked to see him chasing skirts. I wondered why, but never had the guts to ask. If the reason was what I thought, I really didn't want to know. But the suspicion was enough for me to cut the guy some slack./

/Harry and I were the only real friends Tom had at first. He had enemies aplenty, but Chakotay stepped in to deal with them. I think we were all a bit surprised when he took that "life debt" business seriously. People found out pretty quickly, and painfully, to keep their hands off Tom Paris./

/Then Tom started working that Flyboy charm. On the Delaney sisters, Sue Nicoletti, a couple of aliens. All women. He got quite a rep. The 'Fleet crew gradually warmed up to him. And after he'd pulled Voyager's collective ass out of the fire a few times, the Maquis started to come around too./

/After some time being trusted, being liked, Tom began to change. He was still witty, but not so sharp. He let his soft underbelly show every once in a while. And then he turned those baby blues on me./

/I *knew* Tom liked men. But, he was so sweet. Wooing. Teasing. Flirting. And for years he had been with women exclusively. Somewhere along the line I began to ask myself if he could be more than a friend. And when I thought we were dead for sure, I told him I loved him./

/We kind of fell into bed and into a relationship. The sex was great, but...after a while I began to wonder. If what we had was really love, or just lovemaking./

/He and I always had to *do*; we could never just *be*. We were always in motion, on duty, off duty. If we ever sat down to talk, it was in the Mess Hall with Harry sharing our space or Neelix invading it. Otherwise it was go to the holodeck to try a new program or to Sandrine's to shoot some pool or to the gym to work out or to one of our cabins to hit the sheets---*if* we made it that far. The only calm we seemed to share came after our storms of passion. And, occasionally, of anger./

/Despite all that we were...comfortable. We both had a built-in friend, companion, and bedmate. Being with each other kept the loneliness at bay. But it also kept us from having more in our lives. He never told me he loved me, and I never said the words to him after that one time. Still, who knows how long we would have raced along going nowhere together if we hadn't hit Devore space./

/Talk about a mood-killer. The thought of that smiling white rat Kashyk walking through the door in the middle of---well, let's just say it was hands off for the duration. In fact, pretty much everything was off: the holodeck, Sandrine's. Things were just too tense. And Tom and I, it seemed, coped better alone than with each other./

/When we finally left Kashyk's stalking ground I figured Tom and I would be back together in a snap. I wasn't even sure how I felt about it, but that's what I expected. It never happened. He started forgetting to spend time with me, or didn't notice that he was *with* me. And I stopped wanting to spend time with him./

/Tom came to me then, his words tumbling over each other. My gallant, tarnished knight, so anxious not to hurt me. He admitted that I could never have all of his heart. The very core of him craved masculine angles, not feminine curves. Tom had just let himself forget; it made life easier. And he pretended so well that he even convinced himself he could be happy with less./

/But no longer. I think we surprised ourselves with how easy it was to say good-bye to the idea of being lovers. Maybe we were ready to part ways, or knew that the ending was inevitable. We're still friends. I'm sure we always will be./

/Our breakup sent me to the door of another friend, Chakotay. When Tom and I first got together, I asked my former Captain his opinion. I was geared up for a fight, ready to defend my new lover to my old comrade. But Chakotay wouldn't spar with me. Instead, he asked me how I felt. And he listened, the way he always does, to the words and the message behind the words. When I finished speaking he just smiled at me, kissed my forehead very softly and told me Tom Paris was a lucky man./

/Chakotay loves me like a sister. So I had to let him know about the end of the affair myself, to make sure he didn't do the brotherly thing and rush out to defend my honor. By knocking Tom right out of the Delta Quadrant. So I told him, full of awkward half-explanations that preserved Tom's privacy. I ended by reminding Chakotay that I could knock sense into Tom all by myself, if I thought the situation called for it. Which it didn't. Chakotay left Tom alone./

/Now I notice that Tom isn't leaving *him* alone. I should have guessed. Tom likes men, and Chakotay is the best man either one of us has ever known. I can't even be angry at my ex---if there had ever been the slightest sign from the Mystic Warrior I would have claimed him for myself in a heartbeat./

/But I never had a chance. I wonder if Tom does. Chakotay has been so long alone. He has not been lucky in love these last few years. That scheming snake Seska. The Borg bitch Riley. And, of course, the Captain. I still haven't figured out whether she didn't know, or just didn't care about his feelings. Either way after all this time she no longer deserves him./

/I've never seen Chakotay look at another man. Then again, I never really saw him looking at women, either. Even with Janeway he played it pretty close to the vest. He's always been that way, still waters and all./

/A few times I've seen Chakotay's calm surface disturbed, even roiling with fury. When we'd plan raids on Cardassian prisons and get our first look at what those bastards did to the old, the young, women, children. Then the Maquis warrior would descend like a tsunami over the enemy's camp, wreaking havoc and destruction on those who would do such harm to innocents. Voyager's crew should thank their gods Chakotay chose to reach out to them as friends, for they would not have survived long as his enemies./

/But life is different here. He is different. The anger has abated, leaving true serenity. Chakotay's compassion, that quiet, soul-deep concern for those under his care, pours onto us like rain, soaking in to nurture and sustain. And it's about damn time somebody noticed and returned to the man even a little of what he's always given so freely./

/Does Tom have what it takes to win Chakotay's love? He certainly wants to try. Now that I know who Tom's looking for it's easy to catch him sweeping a room until he sees a flash of red and black or the tattoo. Most of the time he sits and waits, keeping watch but not making the first move. He lights up, though, when Chakotay comes to him in the Mess Hall or Sandrine's or even on the bridge. They share a few words, or a short silence, and Tom just glows. In a way he never did when he was with me./

/I should be jealous. Of both of them. But instead I am filled with hope./

/I don't know how much help this has been, but I am clear on one thing. I *want* Chakotay and Tom to be together. Because I think they will prove to me that true love isn't just a dream. And if they can find it, so can I./

END LOG

*******************************************************

Chakotay hesitantly stepped onto the holodeck. His boxing program was already running.

He was here to beat up Kashyk. At least, a hologram of Kashyk. In a way, it was all Tom's idea. Tom had mentioned his unique spin on therapy years ago, when he had come to Chakotay for off-the-record counseling. It couldn't hurt to try it---after all, Tom had been right about the teddy bear.

Chakotay sighed at the thought of Tom. It had been a week since their encounter on the beach. Tom had surprised him by finally keeping his distance as Chakotay asked. Still, those blue eyes locked on him like a target when he entered a room. He could feel them waiting, beckoning, even when he wasn't looking in their direction.

Far too often Chakotay succumbed to their silent call. He would be irresistably drawn to wherever Tom was, to sit together for a time, in conversation or a comfortable quiet. Chakotay always made sure they were in public, and never stayed too long. He was doing his best to keep things on the level of friends. But he couldn't help being warmed by Tom's unwavering concern and continued support.

Chakotay had slowly let the fog dissipate. Small feelings came through first. Annoyance when Neelix wielded too heavy a hand with the spices; delight when Naomi presented him with a new drawing; satisfaction when the paperwork was finally finished for the day.

But the emotions he should be feeling in the wake of his trauma were as yet beyond his grasp. It was as if the last piece of his emotional security blanket had turned into a shroud. Until he could find a way to throw it off, the aspects of his spirit it covered would remain buried.

Chakotay wondered if the nightmares were part of this last barrier, or a result of it. With Alfred's comforting presence he was managing to ride out the vivid nightly re-creation of his experiences with Kashyk. But there was no decrease in the frequency or intensity of the dreams. And every morning the memories seemed as fresh as if he'd just left Sickbay.

He tried different methods to achieve a waking closure, both conventional and not. Nothing worked. Whenever he tried to logically examine what happened, the images and reactions flooded him. He drowned in them. And when they finally receded he was left shaking and sure he would never be truly healed.

"How's it going, son?"

Chakotay jumped at Boothby's greeting, then berated himself for being startled by the wizened old man. "Hello, Boothby."

Starfleet Academy's gardener---and Chakotay's boxing coach---nodded and seemed to let pass the fact that his question remained unanswered. "Here for a couple rounds with the Terellian?"

"No, I have a different opponent in mind." Chakotay kept his voice calm. "It's a special match." He didn't like the gleam in Boothby's eyes---he was beginning to regret leaving the holographic character active.

"Well, that certainly sounds interesting." Boothby gestured to the ring. "Call him up, let's see the fellow before you get ready for the bout."

"All right." Chakotay ran damp palms down the sides of his sweats, then cleared his throat. "Computer, simulate Devore Inspector Kashyk based on surveillance images and sensor readings."

An image of Kashyk appeared, features bland and dressed in his traditional garb. Chakotay stared at the figure in silence, while Boothby walked around the ring.

"I don't know, son, he doesn't look like he's in your class," the old man mused, keeping one eye on Chakotay.

"That isn't important." Chakotay struggled to control his breathing. He opened his clenched hands and moved to the edge of the ring.

"Whoa, there, wait a minute. Let's get some gloves on you." Boothby reached out a hand to Chakotay. His eyes narrowed when he saw the Chakotay's flinch. "What, exactly, is going on here?---And don't you even *think* about turning me off."

Chakotay gritted his teeth and swung between the ropes to enter the ring. "Payback. I won't need the gloves. This isn't going to be a fair fight."

"That doesn't sound like you, Chakotay. Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Boothby's brow wrinkled in concern.

"No," Chakotay admitted. "But I have to do something. I can't take this anymore." He strode up to the hologram standing in the middle of the mat. "Computer, incorporate all database information on Kashyk into the hologram's personality matrix."

"Download complete."

Chakotay swallowed. "Animate hologram."

The pseudo-Kashyk came to life with a delighted smile. "Commander---"

"Computer, freeze simulation." Chakotay shook his head. Of course the hologram would be *pleasant*. The man's true nature never made it into the official logs. As far as the official record was concerned Kashyk was duplicitous and rather sinister, but charming.

Boothby's comment broke the silence. "I suppose you could just gag him."

Chakotay rounded on the old man, who had apparently clambered up on the platform to lean against a post. "You don't have to stay."

"Of course I do, son." Boothby's expression had softened along with his tone. "It's pretty obvious something's upset you. Why don't you tell me about it."

"I don't want to discuss it. I just want to get this over with." Chakotay's breathing had quickened; he could feel a cold sweat breaking out over his skin. He swiftly turned back to the frozen figure. "Computer, make simulation visual only. Resume animation."

As soon as Kashyk blinked Chakotay walloped him, delivering a quick series of blows and jabs. After a moment or two he stopped and dropped his hands to his sides. "Computer, delete Kashyk."

His shoulders slumped. All he could manage was a defeated whisper. "It's not going to work. I *chose* not to fight him. I don't want revenge. I want peace." He dropped to the mat, his head in his hands.

Boothby quickly made his way over to Chakotay, aware enough not to offer a touch of comfort. "What happened to you?" His voice was sharp with anxiety. "Please talk to me, son."

Chakotay just shook his head.

Boothby settled himself, joints creaking, on the mat in front of him. "You know," Boothby mused, "I've been a gardener for a long time. People assume that's all I ever was, or am. Just somebody who plays in the dirt. They forget that I'm also a man, and I've seen my share of troubles. And lived them."

Chakotay looked up at the replica of his mentor and friend. "I'm sorry. You're right, it's easy to forget." He sighed and rose, and gave the old man a hand up. "You might want to get comfortable."

"At my age, 'comfortable' is relative," Boothby grumbled good-naturedly, but went back to lean on the ropes. Then he waited, watching as Chakotay paced the confines of the ring.

It took a while for Chakotay to begin. "Voyager was forced to travel through the territory of a people called the Devore. They had such a great fear of telepaths that a branch of their government actually hunted them. The man you saw, Kashyk, was an Inspector in charge of those hunters. At first we hid our telepaths, as well as some refugees who crossed our path."

Chakotay ran his hand along the rope as he walked. "Eventually, Kashyk came aboard requesting asylum. We all thought it was a trap. The Captain had a plan that would save the refugees, but didn't realize it left our own people vulnerable. I came up with a way to keep Kashyk quiet about the crew."

He stopped, watching his hand run slowly back and forth along the rope. "I went to his cabin one night to make him an offer. From his records, I suspected the Inspector enjoyed...hurting...the people under him. So I told him that if he gave Voyager---and everyone aboard her---clear sailing out of Devore space, he could do whatever he wanted to me, until we left his territory. And no one would know."

Boothby had gone still, hardly breathing, as if not wanting any noise or motion to stop the flow of words.

"His pleasure came from subjugating others," Chakotay continued. "Forcing them to his will. But his wife, his aides, his prisoners, they were weak. They *couldn't* stand up to him." 

Chakotay looked at Boothby. "But I could, if I chose to. I was a lot stronger than him. I figured he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation. If Kashyk agreed to my terms he would have the opportunity to command me." He looked away and his voice dropped. "To break me."

"And he agreed," Boothby said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes. And he used me to his pleasure, and my pain." Chakotay started moving again. "But he wasn't aware that the only reason I had gone to him was to get a sample of DNA," he swallowed, "the only way I could."

He rubbed his wrists. "Unfortunately, we couldn't use the materials I collected. They were too contaminated. So I went to Kashyk again. He thought I was simply fulfilling the terms of our agreement."

Chakotay stopped again. "The second night...he took things even further. And worse, he got into my head, my mind. Kashyk turned out to have some kind of ability himself." 

He sighed. "But I got through it. After we had untainted proof of the Inspector's abilities, we blackmailed him to keep him quiet. Finally he left."

"And now you're trying to find your way back," Boothby prompted.

"Yes. I've had some help and I thought I was getting better, but...I can't seem to let the memories go. I keep dreaming about it, over and over. And every time I try to think about the experience, get some distance from it, I start reliving it again. The feelings are so overwhelming I can't fight them."

"Like an undertow." Boothby nodded.

Chakotay frowned. "What?"

"An undertow, they used to warn swimmers about them." Boothby gestured with one hand. "When a wave crashes into the shore, an undertow pulls the water back out to sea. You can't fight it; if you try you just wear yourself out and get sucked under."

"So what can you do?" Chakotay crossed the mat to peer into the wise old eyes.

"You surrender to it, Chakotay, and let it carry you where it will." Boothby tilted his head, pondering. "Or you go at it sideways. You can't fight the undertow directly, but if you move on a diagonal you can beat it, make it back to shore."

Confusion warred with hope. "I don't understand, Boothby. How does this help me?"

Boothby straightened. "You said that this man---this Kashyk---had some kind of telepathic abilities himself, right?"

"Yes." Chakotay shuddered at the memory.

"And he used them while he was hurting you." Boothby held out his hands. "Don't you see, son, he wants to *keep* hurting you. It's the only way he could win."

The old man swiped a knuckle under his nose, considering. "It's like he set your memories in a loop, so you'd never forget your experience---or him. And every time you try to interfere with that mental programming, it strikes back by making it all crash down on you at once."

Chakotay moved, his quick steps beating a tattoo of frustration. "But even if that's true, how do I break the cycle? *How* can I come at it sideways?"

"There's only one way I see, but it won't be easy. You have to go through the experience again. But this time, with someone you trust...?" the old man's voice rose hopefully.

Chakotay looked at him in horror. "I can't ask Tom to do that."

Boothby shot back, "Why not?"

Chakotay paused, shook his head. "Because I love him. I've been trying to protect him from all this. He's a good, good man, who has experienced too much darkness in his own life."

"But he wants to help you, yes?" Boothby caught the hesitation. "He loves you too, doesn't he?"

"He says he does. But he shouldn't have to prove it this way." Frustration tightened Chakotay's fists. "I wanted to be able to do this on my own."

Boothby took a step forward. "Chakotay, even when you were a cadet I knew you were one of the strongest men I'd ever met. And I don't mean physically." He leaned in. "And sometimes the greatest test of strength is whether you can lift your hand, and hold it out, asking for help."

Boothby regarded Chakotay a moment, then lowered himself to the floor. He crossed to the door to the locker rooms, then turned and said, "I don't know him, but Kashyk probably counted on you being alone. Because he couldn't imagine your trust, or anyone's love, to be more powerful than his brutality. Only you can decide if he was right." He exited.

Chakotay stood alone in the boxing ring.

*****************

Tom Paris walked into his cabin, unzipping his jacket to toss it on the back of a chair. He flopped onto the couch and wondered what Chakotay was doing.

It was the hardest thing he had ever done, to stay away from the Big Man. Tom wanted to *know*. How Chak was feeling, what he was thinking, if things were getting better. He wanted to help. But all he could do was sit and wait.

At least there was hope. It seemed Tom wasn't the only one aware of the pull of their connection. Chakotay seemed to sense Tom's need for reassurance, and would spend small blocks of time with him. Being together soothed Tom's spirit. He'd never been so content just to sit and bask in the presence of another person.

He also noticed Chakotay's reactions becoming more real, more himself. He'd even caught glimpses of genuine amusement in those dark eyes, like the silver flash of a fish rising for an instant to the surface of a lake.

Tom's reverie was interrupted by the chime of his door. "Enter," he called, standing.

He was completely shocked to see the object of his thoughts walk in. A dozen emotions, and questions, rushed into his mind at once, but he limited himself to, "Hey Chak."

Chakotay gave a small smile in response to his new moniker. "Hey yourself, hotshot," he replied softly.

"Hotshot?" Tom was puzzled, but pleased. Chakotay wanted a name for Tom that was all his own. It was a good sign.

"Yes. Bold, brave, try-anything, all-or-nothing, lead-with-your-heart, hotshot." Chakotay fell silent, his brief good mood seeming to evaporate. "Can we talk a minute?"

"Of course." Tom looked at his clearly uneasy guest. "Do you want to sit down?"

"No, no, but please---" Chakotay gestured, and Tom nodded and took his earlier seat. "What is it, Chakotay?"

Chakotay felt the urge to pace again, but resisted. He was through running away from this man. He nervously rubbed his hands together a moment, then looked straight at Tom. "This isn't the way I wanted things to be. I wanted to be whole and healed when I came to you. To tell you I love you."

Tom's joy was tempered by the anguish he could see in the deep brown eyes. "And I love you. So nothing else you say will make any difference."

Chakotay's brows drew together in concern. "Please believe me, Tom, that I mean it. I *do* love you. For yourself, not as someone to hide behind so I don't need to face my fears."

Tom shook his head with a small smile. "You were the only one who ever worried about that, Chak."

Chakotay nodded, reassured, and took a deep breath. "I went to the holodeck today. I thought if I could hurt an image of Kashyk, maybe it would help me deal with what happened with the real man."

Blue eyes narrowed. "It didn't?"

"No, but I talked to Boothby. He thinks---he thinks that Kashyk did something to my mind that is causing the nightmares. That Kashyk didn't want me to forget that..." Chakotay dropped his eyes, "that he broke me."

"No!" Tom leaped up, insistent and intense. "He hurt you, Chakotay, deeply. And he's still hurting you. But trust me, Kashyk *didn't* break you. He never even came close."

Chakotay looked at Tom's fierce expression and tried to see himself through Tom's eyes. "Maybe." he said softly. He hesitated, then walked to sit next to Tom as Tom sank down again.

"Maybe you're right," Chakotay repeated. "But even so, Kashyk still has a hold on me. I can't seem to...feel what I must to put the experience in the past. Every time I try it gets to be too much."

"Please, Chak, tell me how I can help you." Tom seemed to yearn forward, but settled for laying his hand, palm up, between them.

"To break the cycle of my memories, my nightmares, I want...I would like you to...make love with me." Chakotay was looking at that open, offered hand, then at his own, shaking and clenched with tension. "To go through the motions of what Kashyk did, and what he had me do, but with a fundamental difference." He looked into Tom's eyes. "This time, it will be about love and desire. Not power, and pain."

Tom was stunned to silence. He'd read the report, knew what Chakotay was asking. That Chakotay would be willing to take such a risk, to trust himself to Tom so completely... Tom marveled again that this man could ever think of himself as broken. He looked at Chakotay, put all he felt into his reply. "Yes."

"It's not going to be easy, or pretty." Chakotay said, then opened his hands, suddenly assailed by doubts. "It's probably too much to ask, so soon---"

"No, it's not too much to ask, I swear," Tom shushed him. Then his expression turned serious, anxious. "But there is one thing I have to know, Chak. If this doesn't work, what happens to us?"

"I'll wait a day or two and try again, or think of something else. But what I won't do is give up, or push you away again." Chakotay reached out to clasp Tom's offered hand as he vowed, "We'll figure it out together...as long as you're willing."

"Then there's no problem. 'Cause this," Tom said, eyes glowing as he lifted their joined hands, "is forever."

"Forever," Chakotay echoed, "starting tonight." It was a promise, and a prayer.


	5. Chapter 5

UPPLEMENTAL PRIVATE LOG OF CMDR. CHAKOTAY, FEDERATION STARSHIP VOYAGER

/I watch the pen shake in my hand as I sit and contemplate recording my thoughts. My last, my only attempt until now was one of the more traditional exercises in gaining distance from trauma. I wanted to harvest all the sharp-edged memories like broken shells and throw them far away, let them sink forever into the sea of the things we prefer to forget. I failed. Dismally./

/I hope for better things this time, for I do not seek to recall my time with Kashyk. Not just yet. Tom and I gave ourselves a few hours to prepare for our joining. Now just a few minutes are left, and I decided to fill them by writing down these musings as I wait for him to arrive./

/I love Tom Paris. It's a strange thing to say, to write, but oddly not to feel. Two months ago I would have reported that I liked our daring pilot, respected him. If pressed I would have admitted I was attracted to him. But now...I realize that I kept my reactions to him, my thoughts about him, as shallow as I once believed him to be. I never delved beyond the surface to check the depth of the emotions Tom inspired. At first, it was because I considered him a traitor. Later, he came to me seeking counsel, uncomfortable but willing to trust. Before enough time had passed since he was my patient---no matter how unofficially---he became involved with B'Elanna. I would not hurt her for all the worlds, so friends were all Tom and I would be./

/Then, so many changes. First I was affected by my time with Kashyk. Then Tom was transformed by knowing my secret. He was so caring and concerned, even when I didn't want him to be. And, by some alchemy of the heart, he went from being B'Elanna's lover to my love. Now we are about to make our first step toward a life united./

/For several reasons, I'm glad our chance never came until this moment. If some time in the past Tom and I had acknowledged, and acted on, the sparks that always struck between us we would be dead right now. Or at the very least, Tuvok and the others would be. If the hotshot and I had been together I would never have considered my deal with Kashyk. And I don't know how else we could have saved our friends. I would never have delivered anyone else into the Inspector's black-gloved hands./

/I meant what I said to Tom. I wanted this wound on my soul to be gone before our spirits joined. I feared it would taint our feelings, still so new. But Tom is right. After "I love you," the rest is unimportant. We'll deal with what comes. Together./

/Kashyk was not a monster, just a man. And I will not let that man keep even the smallest part of my life. It already belongs...has somehow always belonged...to Tom Paris. No matter what happens, it always will./

END LOG

*******************************************************

It was time.

They were as ready as they could be, barefoot and dressed in comfortable clothes. Tom had brought an overnight bag. Lube and towels were handy. 

The two men stood facing each other in Chakotay's bedroom. Chakotay was nervously pleating a fold of his tunic, avoiding Tom's gaze. "Kashyk wanted me to be loud, to scream and yell and curse him. So I stayed silent. The whole time...both times...I never made a sound. I know you read the report. You know what happened. But, if it's OK, I'd like to talk us through it."

Tom just nodded.

After a few moments of silence Chakotay took a deep breath and lifted his head to meet the anxiously waiting blue eyes. "After Kashyk and I made our bargain, we moved to the bathroom. Easier cleanup, I suppose. He ordered the lights so bright I felt like I was a specimen in some sort of lab. I think he lowered the temperature...it was so cold."

Tom nodded again in understanding, replied in a near-whisper. "We're here in the bedroom, Chak, with the lights low and the air warm." He gave the computer orders to that effect.

Chakotay plucked at the now-wrinkled bit of fabric. "He ordered me to strip. He stayed fully clothed."

Tom rushed to shed his garments, but his hand stilled when he felt Chakotay's touch and heard, "Take your time, Tom. We have all night."

Tom turned the broad palm and brought it up to his lips for a kiss. "We have all of our lives," he answered and released Chakotay to finish his undressing, now at a more sedate pace. When he lifted his head, a little uncertain in his nakedness, he was surprised to find Chakotay's body as bare as his own.

Chakotay gave a small shrug at Tom's expression. "I would never have stayed clothed while you weren't. I know how...disheartening it can be. This is about healing me, not wounding you."

Chakotay's skin was smooth, a warm coppery covering that tempted Tom's eye, mouth, and hands. The only hair on Chakotay's body comprised a sparse patch around his quiescent cock. Tom let his gaze brush across the tense features, down the graceful line of throat to a body corded with muscle. Chakotay looked as though he'd lost none of his strength or vigor since the night he decked those six Maquis, all those years ago.

For a disorienting moment Tom understood the rush of power that must have filled Kashyk at the thought of taking this man, at knowing such a magnificent creature was bowed and submissive to his will. Then Tom looked into scared brown eyes and recognized the compassionate soul that was the Maquis warrior's true source of strength. At his core Chakotay was a noble, deeply emotional, truly gentle man.

That Kashyk battered and abused and humiliated someone so sensitive to the pain of others quickly cured Tom of any fellow-feeling for the Devore Inspector. Strangely, his hate and anger also began to recede. All that was left was love and respect for the man who had allowed, and survived, so much hurt to save his friends. And determination to be deserving of the trust and courage Chakotay showed to ask Tom for such an intimate form of help.

Chakotay looked at the tall slim body, which housed a shining spirit that was the antithesis of Kashyk. He wasn't aroused, but he admired Tom's pale elegant turn of arm and leg, the lean muscled torso and swan-like neck. He contemplated the gleaming skin, liberally dusted with golden hair. But mostly, he drank in the love he could see pouring from eyes that reflected the endless expanses of sky and sea. Warm feelings surrounded him, flowing like water around his body and through his soul.

"We can skip the next part. Kashyk wanted to 'test my endurance,' so he tied my wrists and ankles to the shower doorway and beat me until I was ready to drop. He told me if I tried to cut short his fun by pretending to be hurt, the deal was off." Chakotay's voice dropped as he remembered. "The first time he got too excited to wait. He cut me loose early and pushed me down to my knees. The second night he was more patient, and thorough."

Tom closed the gap between them. "No, we shouldn't dismiss this." He lifted one hand to rest on Chakotay's shoulder. He could feel the skin shivering beneath his fingers. "Just let me touch you, please."

At Chakotay's hesitant nod, Tom began to explore the silk-soft skin, trying to overlay the memories of blows with gentle touches. He followed the lines of muscle and bone, raining soft kisses as he circled his lover's shaking form. He returned to his starting position, sliding his palms down powerful arms to grasp the faintly trembling hands. "Are you OK?" he asked.

"So far, so good," Chakotay breathed. He noticed that Tom's cock had begun to fill and lift. He swallowed and knelt, preparing himself for the next stage.

"When I was down, Kashyk pulled out his penis. It was...alien, pink and fat with some kind of ridge running down its length. I took it, all of it, in my mouth. The ridge hardened as he neared his climax. It started to scratch, but there was nothing I could do." He paused reflectively. "I never learned his taste. When he shot down my throat there was too much blood. When I got a second chance, I made sure to pull back and clean him before he spurted." He looked at Tom. "The sample had to be pure."

Tom nodded. The flat recitation had almost killed his ardor, but he knew Chakotay was counting on him. He remembered the Doc's report, and circled Chakotay's neck with his hands. Not squeezing to bruise the burnished skin, but caressing, encouraging. "Whatever you want to do, Chak. However far you want to go."

Chakotay's eyes regained their focus as he gave his partner a grateful glance. Then he once more dropped his gaze to Tom's penis. It was only slightly erect, so he lifted his hands to cradle the graceful length, discovering its texture and shape. He moved one hand to roll the balls resting below within their sac, and used a knuckle to press behind it. A startled moan escaped Tom as his member stiffened, growing longer and thicker before Chakotay's eyes.

The hands around Chakotay's neck shook slightly. This sent a shot of unexpected gladness through Chakotay---he was happy to be giving his lover pleasure. He looked up to see Tom's eyes were closed, his face glowing as his arousal increased. Tom wasn't making any attempt to hide his reactions, and that willing vulnerability soothed Chakotay's spirit. It reminded him that sex wasn't a painful power game; this was the intertwining of bodies and souls.

He started with a quick, sucking kiss to Tom's slit, cleaning up the precum that began to bead. He let the flavor settle on his tongue. Then he took some of the shaft, letting his tongue tickle the underside of the head. His hands left Tom's balls to grip his thighs. He pulled the slim body toward his mouth even as he leaned forward to meet it.

Tom felt his hands want to tighten in excitement around Chakotay's neck, so he started to explore. He ran his hands along the rims of Chakotay's ears and teased the skin under and behind them. He stroked the shifting jaw and hollowing cheeks, soothed the temples, playfully mussed the perfect dark hair. His fingers were still buried in the short shiny strands as his hands clenched, signaling his approaching climax. He gasped out a warning, "It's coming, Chak."

Chakotay was absorbing Tom's essence, banishing the touch and scent of his tormentor. His heart glowed at the message---the unspoken coda was Tom's willingness to let Chakotay withdraw, even at this late stage. Instead Chakotay chose to renew his efforts, humming in anticipation. He was soon rewarded with a shout of ecstasy somewhere above him and the flavor of his lover's hot seed.

When Tom stopped heaving like a bellows, he felt his body relax as his hands contritely attempted to bring some order to Chakotay's hair. He felt air on his spent cock and looked down. Chakotay's face was pensive but not upset, so Tom gave his lover time to ponder the experience. He waited, his body still thrumming with pleasure, simply offering his silent support.

Chakotay licked his lips and stood, catching Tom's hands on his ascent. He was shaking a little now. He gathered his courage and looked at Tom. "This is going to be the tough part. I knew, no matter what Kashyk did, that I was safe until he stripped off those black gloves."

Tom nodded and concentrated on his partner's voice and body language, as well as his words. His thumbs brushed soothingly against Chakotay's knuckles.

Chakotay's eyes drifted to their linked hands. He studied the contrast, ivory and bronze, then drew Tom's fingers up to his mouth. He gave each one a light kiss, then lowered them, still meshed with his own. "Your hands are so warm. Kashyk's were...icy, and when they touched me I felt like they were digging into my mind as well as my body."

He paused for a moment, then continued. "He was hard again almost instantly. He pushed my head down until I was pressed against the tile. Then he ran those chill fingers along my back, then down as he moved behind me. He just shoved in. He said my blood would soon ease his way. By the time that happened, that ridge was sharp again."

Tom was blinking, trying to hold back tears as Chakotay continued. "But his hands were worse. Bruising, scratching, and the whole time their cold alien touch was in my head. I held him off the first night, but when I went back...he started biting me. I think he hoped I'd be so out of it with pain he could get past my walls. He did. He made me feel so cold, inside and out. Cold and unclean and alone." 

Chakotay turned his head away and his voice faltered. "Eventually...finally he finished and walked out. He was done with me. The first night I managed to get dressed and transport to Sickbay. You know what happened the second time." He turned a helpless, almost hopeless gaze to Tom. "Can you do this, Tom? Help me feel warm again?"

Tom moved to hold Chakotay, trying to heal what was more than a physical chill. "You're not alone, Chakotay. I love you. Keep telling yourself that. We'll get through this, I promise." 

He nearly collapsed with relief as he felt the tremors ease the slightest bit as Chakotay's arms closed around him. He backed up and led Chakotay to the bed. "Let's get started."

At the foot of the mattress, Tom turned Chakotay and had him sit, then grabbed the tube of lubricant and set it nearby. 

Chakotay's brow wrinkled in confusion. "This isn't the right position---"

"I know," Tom soothed. "But it takes two to make a mood, Chak, and let's just take it slow." 

Chakotay simply nodded and lay down.

Tom was almost undone by the trust and apprehension swirling together in the liquid eyes. He kissed them closed, featherlight touches, as he settled beside Chakotay.

"Just think about me, Chakotay. How warm my hands are," he began slowly traveling along the satiny bronze skin. Face and throat, shoulders and arms and chest. "How much I love you, admire you." He could feel himself getting hard as his fingers teased the small dark nipples, rejoicing when they tightened. "How much I hope we can be together. In bed and out of it."

Tom's hands strayed below the waist, stroking the hips and stomach, massaging the muscular thighs, dancing around the rosy dark cock that showed the faintest signs of interest. He turned his head to find Chakotay watching him. He responded to the hint of passion in the dark depths. His voice turned husky. "How beautiful you are. How much I want you."

Chakotay had feared to the bottom of his soul that he and Tom would fail. That Kashyk had destroyed Chakotay's ability to trust, to desire, to love. Relief flooded him, fueling his reawakening feelings as his hips moved slightly, seeking those warm, loving hands.

Tom leaned next to Chakotay's ear. "Let me hear you, Chak." He needed this. "If we take the next step I won't be able to see your face, and I have to know you're all right."

Chakotay leaned up to kiss Tom. Their lips met in a gentle exploration that lasted a moment that held them suspended in time. Still joined, he pulled them both to sitting and then leaned back. 

Tom reached for the tube of lubricant while Chakotay turned to rest on his hands and knees at the end of the bed. He looked over his shoulder to give Tom the ghost of a smile, then faced forward and waited.

Tom stood on the floor and slicked up one hand, then leaned over to drape himself over the trembling body on the bed. "Feel us, Chakotay. Skin on skin." He straightened as his dry hand made long strokes from shoulders to waist, tracing the muscles and sinews that made up his lover.

Chakotay concentrated on Tom's scent, the brush of Tom's flesh against his own, the path of that wandering hand. Remembering Tom's concerns, he gave an appreciative sigh and "Mmmm..."

When Tom's touch strayed to Chakotay's buttocks he instinctively tensed, gripping the material beneath his hands. He waged an internal battle, trying to keep his footing amid a sudden sweeping tide of memories. He would not lose this chance with Tom. After a time Chakotay took a deep breath and consciously relaxed his fingers. He turned his head again to see the concern and, yes, fear on his lover's face. He calmed even more. "Tom," he called softly. When those uncertain eyes met his he said, "You are my love. Take me. Give yourself to me."

Tom smiled, reassured by Chakotay's words. He leaned forward once more to share a gentle kiss. "Yes." Then he turned his attention to the rounded buttocks in front of him. One hand caressed the firm flesh, while the other carefully stroked the cleft. "I'm starting now," he said, and sent a fingertip into the opening. After pausing a moment, he continued, easing in the entire digit. He felt the ring of muscle closing around him, the heat of the channel beyond.

Chakotay felt the finger drawing a circle inside him, stroking his internal walls. Then it withdrew a moment, only to return with a companion. Chakotay gave a soft moan as he felt them slowly move inside him, gently coating and stretching. This was Tom, his love, his lover. The fear began to ebb as he felt desire rise to match the love already there. His whole body shuddered as Tom found his prostate.

Tom felt his own arousal increasing as Chakotay's body continued to respond. He was up to three fingers, occasionally brushing Chakotay's gland. He pulled out and thoroughly slicked his cock. He lined up with the lubed opening. Then Tom leaned forward to wrap his arms around Chakotay and rest his cheek against his lover's. "This is it," Tom whispered, and slowly pushed his way past the slight resistance. He advanced and retreated, nudging in a little farther each time.

Chakotay shimmied in Tom's embrace, moving back slightly as he finally felt wiry hair brushing against his ass. He turned to kiss a flushed cheek, then lifted one hand to squeeze the arms enfolding him. He knew he needed more: Tom's intensity, to overcome Kashyk's ferocity. "Touch me, hotshot. Fuck me. Give me everything you've got."

Tom had started to pant, fighting his urge to thrust hard and fast into the beautiful body beneath him. He licked the skin behind Chakotay's ear. "Are you sure?" he breathed, his hands already wandering to roll and tug at dusky nipples.

"Yes," Chakotay groaned, "I trust you. Please, Tom." He felt Tom tense, then straighten. Tom stayed buried in Chakotay as he moved them back until both of them were once more standing. Chakotay continued to lean forward, his hands braced on the bed for leverage as Tom started again, then quickened and deepened his strokes. He pulled almost completely out before he thrust back in to the hilt, making low sounds of pleasure.

Tom's hands were pressing a little harder now, scrabbling over Chakotay's sides and clenching around his hips. His mouth surrendered to the yearning for smooth skin gleaming with sweat, licking and kissing Chakotay's shoulders. Tom bared his teeth and ever so lightly scraped them down Chakotay's back, pausing occasionally to gently suck, leaving faint red marks. He was thrilled when Chakotay began to moan and meet Tom's thrusts. He reached around to find his lover's cock hot and hard. His fist began to pull at the engorged length in time with his own movements.

Chakotay's body was shaking again, a strange mixture of relief and tension as he rode the building wave of his climax. He lifted his head to groan Tom's name as his cock exploded and his body surged in the throes of release.

Tom felt the spurt of semen against his palm as his cock was gripped by the contractions of Chakotay's body. He gasped as his orgasm claimed him, his body slamming into Chakotay's until he was spent. Tom guided Chakotay down as the men collapsed on their sides on the mattress, still joined.

When their breathing finally quieted Tom eased out of Chakotay's body and raised himself, kneeling on the bed. Chakotay sat up, turned around and was immediately embraced. After a moment he leaned back and looked at Tom with unreadable eyes. "I love you. Thank you," he whispered, then moved once more into Tom's embrace. He tucked his face into Tom's neck and softly began to cry.

Tom laid his cheek against the dark hair and rubbed Chakotay's back, shedding a few tears of his own. He felt as though the two of them were being cleansed in the gentle flow of moisture, as if it were washing away some of the bitter memories so better ones could take hold.

He waited until he was sure the quiet storm had passed, then silently reached over to pick up the damp cloth he'd prepared earlier. He first used a corner to wipe the tearstains from Chakotay's face, then carefully cleaned the bronze body. He finished by wiping himself down.

Tom flung the towel toward the bathroom as the two men stood. Then he unmade the bed and tucked Chakotay into it. When he moved to his own side he caught sight of Alfred half hidden behind his pillow. He reached down to grab the bear and held it a moment, silently conveying thanks to his furry friend.

Chakotay looked at the toy wistfully. "I'm going to miss that little guy. I don't understand it, but you were right. He did help me sleep through the night."

Tom rubbed the light brown fuzz, then set the bear on the cabinet. While he was arranging Alfred's limbs he said with studied casualness, "Well, I could always let him stay here. And maybe keep him company so he didn't forget me."

Chakotay waited until Tom laid down to answer. "You mean move in? I love you, and would love to have you with me. But that's a pretty big step, hotshot. And a sudden one. Are you sure you want to take the chance?"

Tom opened his hands in a questioning gesture. "Where's the risk? I'm sure of my feelings, you're sure of yours. All we're doing is skipping the tedious packing and unpacking of overnight bags." Tom looked into Chakotay's eyes. "I want to be with you."

"And I want you here. But first, let's see if I'm ready for a bedmate, okay? I think that maybe now the nights will get easier, but you have to be able to get enough rest with me." Chakotay gathered his lover into his arms. "Let's wait just a little while, then I'll leave the choice of move-in day to you."

"I'll hold you to that, Chak." Tom called the lights down and smiled as Chakotay smothered a yawn, then delivered a chaste kiss. "It's been a long day," he said fondly. "Good night."

"Good night, Tom," Chakotay murmured, his eyes already closing. For a short but satisfying time, Tom watched the rise and fall of Chakotay's quiet breaths. Then he nestled against the powerful frame and drifted off to sleep.

*******************************************************

Tom woke to a profound sense of peace. He gently disentangled himself from Chakotay's unconscious embrace, and leaned on an elbow to look at his sleeping lover.

Fond eyes traced the tiny smile barely curving the full lips. Tom hoped Chakotay was dreaming of him, since Chakotay's rest had been completely undisturbed. Then he winked at Alfred, who still sat patiently in front of the lamp.

"Good morning." Chakotay said. He followed Tom's gaze. "I guess Alfred's out of a job, poor bear. I'd much rather have you in my bed." He pushed a hand into tousled blond waves, bringing the smiling pink lips down for a thorough kiss.

The new lovers settled in for a long session of necking, a leisurely beginning to their day off. Eventually Tom sat up, grabbed both of his lover's hands and pulled. "Come on, let's hit the showers." Chakotay followed him without hesitation.

The two men stepped into the cubicle, lathering and rinsing each other in ways designed to arouse. They came together under the spray in a deep, hot kiss, creating sweet friction between their rampant cocks.

Tom pulled free. "I want you inside me, Chakotay. Right now." He dialed up the hot water until it fell in sheets around them and sent billows of water vapor rising to the ceiling. Then he turned and leaned against the tiles, presenting Chakotay with a tantalizing vision of a long lean back, lightly muscled limbs and a pert little ass.

Chakotay rubbed lightly against Tom, feeling the rivulets of water sliding down his skin as he caressed his lover. He stroked the front of Tom's body from neck to knees, varying pressure and pathway until he had Tom writhing with need. Only then did he slick his fingers with the shower gel and begin a careful preparation, knowing how much time had passed since Tom had been with a man.

Tom thrust back against Chakotay's fingers, seeking to bury them more deeply. He moaned in anticipation and opened his eyes to clouds of steam. Without warning, he had a vision of the cement wall of Aukland's shower room. He vividly remembered being forced up against its rough surface as an unwelcome invader shoved its way into his body. Tom swallowed, trying to stay relaxed and hide his sudden anxiety from Chakotay.

Chakotay quickly slathered his length with the thick gel. He parted his lover's cheeks and pressed the head of his cock against the stretched portal. He prepared to ease in when something made him pause.

Tom was trembling, but Chakotay sensed it was no longer in desire. He stepped away and turned off the pounding water. His voice broke into the sudden quiet. "Tom, you should have told me you were having a problem."

Through the dissipating steam he saw the pale shoulders shrug. "How did you know?" Tom asked without looking around.

Chakotay turned him, tensed as Tom's gaze immediately slid away. "Something didn't feel right. Why didn't you tell me?"

Tom shrugged again. "I was hoping you would just keep going. I didn't want to spoil the mood."

"It takes two to make a mood, Tom, remember?." Chakotay ran a gentle hand along his partner's now-flaccid sex. "And it's pretty obvious you're not ready for this."

"But I should be!" Tom muttered. "I don't understand what's wrong with me. For just a few seconds I was back at Aukland. And snap, I went from excited to terrified."

"These things happen. Maybe next time I'll be the one who freezes." Chakotay lifted his eyebrows and shoulders. "Between us we have so much emotional baggage laying around I'm not surprised we tripped over it."

Tom slumped against the wall. "I know, but I feel so stupid, like I've let you down. I mean, here you are reliving your experiences within months. Then I'm the one who freaks out, but for me it's been over five years."

"Most of that time you spent trying not to think about it. You should give yourself a break." Chakotay tilted his head. "Besides, I have a clear advantage."

That drew Tom's head up. "What's that?"

Chakotay gave him a breath-stealing, dimpled smile. "I have Tom Paris looking after me."

Tom started to roll his eyes, but stopped at the expression in Chakotay's. His voice filled with wonder. "You really mean that, don't you?"

Chakotay framed the doubtful, beloved face in his hands. "You are the greatest blessing I will ever receive in my life." 

He took a deep breath. "And I will spend the rest of my days striving to be worthy of the gift. It doesn't matter to me how we come together, Tom, as long as we *are* together. I could never be disappointed in you. I love you."

"I love you too, Chakotay." Tom pressed close in a kiss, then leaned back. "And I wanted this to be our moment."

Chakotay stared into blue pools still murky with self-doubts. Tom had proven his strength so many times that Chakotay couldn't bear to see him question it. "Then it will be. Let's make a few changes first, all right?"

Tom nodded briskly, determined to prove something, mostly to himself. 

Chakotay reached over and started the water again. It fell around them, this time warm and soft as a summer rain. Then he simply said, "Watch me," and sank to his knees. He set his mouth to reawakening Tom's cock, while one hand slipped into Tom's cleft, teasing the hidden opening while he confirmed his lover's readiness.

Tom watched as Chakotay pleasured him, the full lips sucking the head of his cock, opening further to absorb the shaft, then retreating until just the tip of his tongue playfully lapped at the slit. Most arousing was the expression of love and enjoyment in the brown eyes that caressed him all the while. He reached out to let his hands shape Chakotay's shoulders.

Chakotay soon had Tom fully erect and moaning again. He moved his hands to the slim hips, and very slowly lowered Tom to meet him. He supported Tom's weight, taking advantage of his lover's descent to kiss each inch of flushed skin as it passed his mouth. He nibbled at hipbones, dipped into Tom's bellybutton, traced his tongue over the ribs. He kissed the underside of each pectoral, and nuzzled into golden curls as he suckled and nipped the dark pink nubs, drawn up tight and begging for attention.

Tom's arms fell naturally around Chakotay's neck as his legs folded and settled outside Chakotay's thighs. Then soft lips moved to the base of Tom's neck and he stopped thinking. He also closed his eyes, leaning his head back and arching his throat like an offering, which was quickly accepted. The kisses, sucks and licks along his skin sent his desire soaring. Tom felt Chakotay lift his head as his own knees finally reached the floor and his buttocks lightly rested above Chakotay's cock. He opened his eyes, very aware of the rod pulsing against his ass. "Why'd you stop?"

Chakotay kissed him, then grinned. His eyes were bright and warm and free of shadows. "Because you're running this show, hotshot. What happens next is up to you." His expression softened. "Whatever you want to do, Tom. However far you want to go."

Tom smiled and shook his head, but didn't answer in words. He raised slightly and used one hand to guide Chakotay's still-slick cock into his depths. He felt them join a centimeter at a time as he lowered himself, his own erection tracing a line of precum along his lover's taut belly.

When the connection was complete, Tom stopped and simply enjoyed the feeling of being filled. And the view. Chakotay's expression was exquisite: dark eyes shimmering with love and passion and pride, skin beaded with water. Full lips slightly parted as Chakotay panted, struggling for control. He groaned, "Please Tom."

Tom claimed Chakotay's open mouth, his hands sliding into slick dark hair as his tongue echoed the joining of their lower bodies. He also began to move, raising and lowering his pelvis, moaning himself as his prostate was hit on every stroke.

Their movements together were a tender undulation. Chakotay stroked Tom's sides and legs, letting him choose the pace and depth of their joining. He opened his eyes when Tom broke their kiss and began to move more quickly.

Tom drew back enough to look into Chakotay's face, but kept his hands buried. "Bring us home, Chak," he whispered.

One hand immediately moved to encircle Tom's glistening cock, pumping to match Tom's cadence, swirling thumb spreading the gathered fluid over the sensitive head.

Tension built with each stroke. Their eyes were still locked as they came together with heartfelt groans of release. Tom felt his soul spill over with joy as his balls emptied and his limbs closed tightly around his lover. 

Chakotay reveled in Tom's external and internal embrace.

Tom and Chakotay touched foreheads and simply breathed as the aftershocks faded. Gradually the light patter of the shower could be heard over the pounding of their hearts. Tom pulled back and touched Chakotay's face. "Thank you."

Chakotay just nodded and smiled. He felt himself slip out of Tom's body as they both stood on slightly shaky legs. They began a quick cleanup under the soft spray. "So, Tom, do you have any suggestions for our day off?"

"Yes. I'd like to go back to your beach program, maybe have a picnic." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "I've had this dream, of us in the sunlight. Nothing special, just being together."

Chakotay tenderly brushed a thumb over a faintly blushing cheek. "That sounds wonderful. Let's make it come true."

As the two survivors embraced once more, they knew that, together, their dreams would always overcome their nightmares.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcomed with great joy and constructive criticism treasured as a rare gift.


End file.
